


For Lost Time

by AStandardName



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Complete, F/M, Post-Season/Series 06, Sex & Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:52:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8446537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStandardName/pseuds/AStandardName
Summary: Bran/Meera. At Castle Black, something unexpected happens that changes Bran and Meera's relationship drastically.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have no main ASoIF/GoT plot, and will focus on Bran/Meera. Assume all that plot is happening elsewhere.
> 
> Also... suspend your disbelief a little. Just pretend your disbelief is a trapeze act.
> 
> Meera's Point of View.

**For Lost Time**

**Chapter 1: The Unlikely Miracle**

I watch wearily as the black brother of the Night’s Watch hefts Prince Stark up into his arms and begins ascending the stairway up through Castle Black. Jon Snow isn’t the Lord Commander here anymore, or so says the black brother we spoke to. Apparently we’re to be taken to speak to someone called Edd, the new de facto Lord Commander.

I feel every joint in my body scream in protest as I climb slowly up the stairs following behind my Prince and the man carrying him. It took three days to put together a new sled and drag Bran to the Wall, and my whole body is reminding me of it each step I take. Looking around I see the sombre faces of the men of the Night’s Watch as they go about their work.

I look ahead as the man with whom I reluctantly unburdened myself of Bran and watch as he passes greetings to his black brothers on the stairs. The man carrying Bran steps past one of his brothers on the uneven rickety stairs, but neither pays attention and they collide.

Time feels immovably slow as I watch Bran’s helper twist awkwardly on the spot as he stumbles backwards. The helper slumps sluggishly against the handrail and I watch in horror as Bran is dropped over the side of the stairs.

“BRAN!” I cry out as I lunge uselessly forwards to catch Bran’s outstretched hands as he fails to grab a hold of anything. Once more time feels halted as I look into Bran’s soft eyes mid-fall. No. This can’t be happening. We didn’t survive north of the Wall, we didn’t survive the White Walkers and the Wights for this happen. Fear grips my heart as I practically throw myself over the handrail long after Bran is beyond my reach.

Please no. Not Bran too. I watch on helplessly as Bran falls his last dozen feet and collides with the ground with an anticlimactic thump. Bran’s eyes roll up into his head as his body lays splayed out on a patch of pristine snow.

I move quickly down the stairs taking them two or three at a time as I hear the black brothers shouting and calling out in panic. My mind is numb as I round the bottom of the stairs and sprint to where Bran fell. I slide to my knees at his side and I wrap my arms around him protectively. I cradle his head to my chest as I feel my heart race.

“Bran? BRAN?” I call out to him as he remains lifeless in my arms. Panic grips me as I shake him slightly and run my gloved hand over his cheek. “Bran please... please” I whisper as I pull him close. I can’t do this. He has to be okay, he has to be alive. Somewhere behind me I hear people crowding around but I pay them no mind as I focus on my Prince.

“M'ra. Meera” mumbles Bran quietly as I feel a jolt of relief run up my spine.

“Bran? Bran I’m here. Say something?” I beg without shame as he shifts in my arms.

“Cold” he mumbles softly as his eyes slowly open. His normally soft brown eyes are glassed over as he stares up at me. Despite the situation I let out a warm chuff of air.

“It’s the North Bran, it’s always cold” I say quietly as I smile down at him. Bran gives a soft nod before closing his eyes once more.

“Bran?” I ask uncertainly as worry grips me once more. Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Lady Reed?” asks a black brother uncertainly. I just nod silently as I run my gloved hand over Bran’s chest and feel his still beating heart. “Lady Reed... we had better get you and the young lord inside” says the black brother uncomfortably. Once again I nod silently as words are exchanged behind me and two young men in black cloaks come to carry Bran. “Lady Reed... you’re going to have to let go o’ him” rasps the man behind me.

Slowly I unwind my arms from around Bran and shuffle back as the two younger men carefully pick him up and begin carrying him with care. I hear words exchanged once more but my eyes are glued to Bran’s unconscious face.

I glance around quickly as I follow the two men carrying Bran and notice that a small crowd of men has gathered. They all watch in silence as the two young men carry Bran slowly up the stairs with me in tow. Slowly we make our way up the stairs like a funerary procession, the very thought sending terror coursing through me.

He spoke to me. He made me laugh. He’ll be fine. I know he will. My mind goes in circles trying to convince myself that Bran Stark will be okay. We crest over the top of the stair and I glance sideways at the spot where Bran was dropped. An older black brother brushes past me and moves to open up the door for the two men carrying Bran.

“Through here lads” rasps the man to the two younger men. I follow behind the men as they carry Bran into a small room, and the older man opens up another door and guides the men through once more. “Put ‘im down here boys” says the older man. The two younger men move and carefully deposit Bran in a large bed that dominates the room. I glance around the room and it looks like the quarters of someone of rank. “Alright lads, you’ve already done your worst. Now bugger off” snarks the older man.

The two younger men grumble quietly and trudge out of the room as I quickly move around the bed and slide up next to Bran. I pull my fur glove off with my teeth and quickly run my hand over Bran’s chest to feel his heartbeat. Once more relief washes over me as I feel the soft stead beat of Bran’s heart thrumming under my fingers. At the foot of the bed the older man clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Ah... er Lady Reed?” he asks uncertainly. I glance up at him and nod. “You told the two brothers you met that this is Bran Stark?” he asks.

“Yes” I answer simply.

“As in Jon Snows brother?” he deadpans in surprise.

“He needs a maester” I say, ignoring his question.

“Well er... thing is. We’re a little short on masters up here at the moment” says the man. No Jon Snow, no maesters, what in seven hells has happened to the Night’s Watch.

“Where is Jon Snow?” I ask irritated as I look closely at Bran.

“It’s sort of a long story, but Jon Snow’s in Winterfell” he says. “I’m Eddison Tollet, everyone calls me Edd” he says uncomfortably. He must be the Lord Commander that those black brothers spoke of earlier. I nod silently as I run my bare hand up Bran’s neck and softly trace my fingers up his jaw and over his cheek. “I’ll uh have some food brought up and someone to build a fire” he says.

“Send a raven to Winterfell, tell them Bran Stark is alive at Castle Black” I say unconcerned with my demanding tone. I hear the Lord Commander make his excuses and leave the room. I hear the door close behind me and I refocus my attention on Bran.

This should never have happened, I should have carried him up the stairs myself if I had to. Slowly I begin to notice the aches and pains I was feeling as we arrived at Castle Black. I edge the blanket out from under Bran and cover him with it as I ease myself into the bed next to him. The thought of decorum occurs to me for a moment, but I ignore it. Bran and I have spent more time beyond the Wall curled up for warmth than I can count, this hardly matters anymore.

I lie back in the bed and slowly let the tension ease off of me as I watch Bran as he breaths in deep lungfuls of air. Time passes and men in black cloaks come into the room and build a fire in the hearth. Eventually the Lord Commander returns with a large plate of food. It looks especially horrid, but after being north of the Wall for so long, large hunks of bread and steaming unknown meat is practically a delicacy.

I listen as Edd explains what has happened while Bran and I were north of the Wall. It seems Jon Snow is now King in the North. As he tells me about what has befell the Starks in our absence I feel my heart sink. What Bran said about his family was right. I had hoped he was having horrid dreams or pessimistic thoughts. Eventually Edd leaves me a key and tells me the that we can stay here in the Lord Commander’s quarters until Bran is fit to travel, or until Jon sends word.

I try not to think about the idea of ‘if’ Bran will be fit to travel as Edd leaves the room and I stand quickly to lock and bar the main door. Even if the Night’s Watch is loyal to Jon Snow, I don’t trust a single one of them enough to risk Bran harm. I go back to the bedroom and close the door to keep the heat from the hearth in.

Despite my aching joints I stumble over to the bed and reach under the blankets and ease off Bran’s makeshift boots. One by one I drop them to the floor and I cover up his feet once more. I sit on the bed and begin removing my own boots. Slowly I ease myself under the blanket and curl my body once more around Bran. I eye the food hungrily sitting on the table next to me, but that’s Bran’s share.

I snuggle closer to Bran and watch his soft face. I trace my eyes over his jaw and cheek bones, over his brow and nose before finally landing where his usually soft warm eyes stare back at me. He’ll be fine, I say to myself once again. A thought strikes me and I ease myself forward and brush my lips softly against his cheek.

“Bran?” I ask quietly into the silent room. “Please be okay” I whisper into his ear. “I need you”. I let my hand drift over his beating heart once more to reassure myself before closing my eyes. Slowly though exhaustion a dreamless sleep takes me as my cheek rests over Bran’s slim shoulder.

...

...

...

“Meera?” comes a hushed whisper. “Meera?” Slowly I crack an eye and look around the darkened room. Most of the candles have burned down, and the one remaining is casting shadows on the walls as it flickers. “Meera, wake up”

“Hmm?” I hum in confusion as I lift my head and look at Bran. I feel a sharp relief pass through me as I see his focused eyes staring back at me with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asks. I nod dumbly as I stare into his eyes. “Meera... where are we?”

“Castle Black” I say quietly as if the fewer words I say the less chance of breaking this spell.

“I fell... again” he states, almost uncertainly.

“Yeah” I say thickly. I watch as he nods in acceptance, before resting his head back against the pillows and letting out a quiet sigh. As if trying not to startle him I lower my head back down over his shoulder and ease back into a comfortable position.

“Meera?” whispers Bran.

“Yeah?” I ask hesitantly, hoping he doesn’t send me away.

“My feet are cold” he says. My heart skips a beat.

“What!?” I yelp.


	2. Chapter 2

**For Lost Time**

**Chapter 2: To Winterfell**

The cart bumps and jostles as it trundles down the uneven road to Winterfell. I glance over at Bran as the cart goes over another bump and jolts us about some more. I smile over at Bran who has been tense as of late. I wonder if some part of him is fearful of returning home. I reach over and place my hand on Bran’s shoulder to steady him as the cart rocks us about; more out of habit than need. His legs are getting stronger, slowly.

After Edd sent out a raven to Winterfell, it took almost seven nights for one to return. The message was brief, but Jon- King Jon, wrote he was sending a few trusted men and a horse cart to collect his younger brother. Part of me feels bitter that the King wouldn’t come himself to escort his brother, but Bran was quick to remind me the North needs its King more than he does. He is right, but I suppose I am just protective of my Prince.

A soft frown crosses my face as I think of the rest of the Starks and what befell them during our time north of the Wall. Bran took the news calmly in a way that worries me. Bran has always been good a keeping on his Lord’s mask, but even the confirmation of you family members dying should be reason enough to break it. In a way it reminds me of how my father described Ned Stark to be.

The cart hits another bump in the road and I watch out the corner of my eye as Bran lets out a grunt of exertion as he shifts his leg slightly to rebalance. Ever since his second fall and the feeling in his legs retuned he has been relentless in trying to move and exercise the weak and skinny muscles. I let out a quite chuckle as I realise I have once more placed my hand on Bran’s shoulder to steady him; unnecessarily it seems. Even now that his legs are slowly returning to him he never objects to my help.

“We’ll be arriving at Winterfell not long after noon milord” announces the old bearded man guiding the horses pulling the cart.

“Will King Jon be there?” asks Bran with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“I expect so” says the bearded man. “No reason he should have left”. Bran gives a curt nod and returns to looking at the scenery as my mind returns to its favoured past time as of late; wondering what will become of me once we reach Winterfell.

The idea of leaving Bran almost repulses me. We have been together for so long now that the only other person I have shared as close a bond with was my brother. My lips pull into a twisted grimace as I push down the thoughts of Jojen once again and I return to thinking about my place in Winterfell.

Perhaps the King will not be bothered by my staying in Winterfell to be near Bran. My dozens upon dozens of worries mount as I continue to ponder the future. What will my father expect, what will the King expect, what does Bran want?

“Meera?” says Bran softly so only I can hear.

“Mmm?” I hum acknowledging him.

“Why do you look so grim?” he asks. The strange reversal of the situation causes me to let out a snort of laughter before I can stop myself. Imagine Bran Stark of all people asking me why I look grim.

“Because I am worried” I say softly with a sad smile.

“Why? The journey shall be over soon” says Bran leaning closer and placing a comforting hand on the small of my back. For some reason, even through layers of fur and leather I feel the outline of Bran’s hand as if it’s burning an imprint on my skin.

“But then what of us? Of me?” I ask feeling slightly selfish.

“I don’t know” admits Bran. “What would you like to happen?” he asks. As the words spill from his lips my mind immediately thinks of me and Bran together in Winterfell, far away from any of the awful things we’ve seen.

“I...” I begin hesitating. “...do you think the King would allow me to stay in Winterfell... with you?” I ask.

“He is my brother Meera, I don’t believe he would refuse” says Bran quietly as I feel his hand on my back slowly rubbing soft comforting circles.

“Would... would you want me to stay” I ask feeling exposed for some reason as my mind fills with images of the countless sleepless nights I have spent watching Bran sleep.

“Of course I would. But what of your father and Greywater Watch?” he asks as a soft frown crosses his sweet face.

“My father will understand” I say as I remember his carefree opinion on the Lordship of Greywater Watch. “And I don’t think I have the strength to leave you behind at Winterfell” I admit.

“Nor I” he says softly as his eyes goes distant and he focuses his gaze on the scenery.

“Bran...” I start. “Is something bothering you about returning to Winterfell?” Bran looks over at me and gives a self-deprecating smile.

“You could tell?” he asks rhetorically. I give a nod and wait for him continue. “There is something I have to tell Jon. And I am not sure he will like hearing it” says Bran with a deep sigh.

“I’ll be there with you, I swear” I say reassuringly as I reach over and take his free hand in my own. “By bronze and iron...” I whisper softly as I lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, “...by fire and ice” I finish reciting. Bran leans his cheek against mine and we stay like that as the cart trundles along in silence.

The longer we’re south of the Wall, the more and more I feel the thoughts and emotions that I have tamped down; the affections for Bran that I buried because of the direness of our situation. As the cart shifts I suddenly feel Bran’s hand on my back shift to curl around my hip. I resist the urge to let out a contented sigh.

I wonder now that Bran has his legs returned to him, will his prospects of marriage also return. I feel a sharp jealously at the thought. What woman has the right to wed Bran Stark when they had not been there with him during his darkest of days? I am too old; I would tell myself whenever I needed to cease thinking of Bran as a man. Yet he seems unperturbed by the number of namedays between us as we sit here on this cart pressed together.

“When we get to Winterfell, after I speak with Jon there is something I wish to speak to you about” says Bran quietly. I feel the shift of his cheek against mine with every syllable.

“Should I be concerned?” I whisper back as a cheeky grin tugs at my lips.

“I don’t know” answers Bran cryptically with a melancholy expression. I shake my head at the overly serious Prince of the North.

“Then lets enjoy our journey while it lasts” I say, giving Bran a warm smile.

The rest of the morning passes with ease as Bran continues lifting and stretching his legs while we chat carefree for the first time in long time. Bran smiles as he points out places of interest as he begins seeing land marks he recognises; often reciting what his maester taught him when he was young.

As the morning turns to afternoon I begin to notice the look in the eyes of some of King Jon’s guards as they steal glances at me and Bran. I feel a jolt of perverse happiness as I wonder that perhaps Bran and I look more intimate than we actually are; perhaps as a man and woman, rather than a crannog and her Prince. As we move I find myself more and more aware of Bran’s little touches and movements.

The thought suddenly strikes me, I desire Bran Stark. Not as the Prince that I have viciously guarded north of the Wall, but in the manner my mother taught me of. A flush of red rolls up my neck and fills me cheeks as my long conversations with my mother about men come rushing back to me at full force. I feel a slight hitch in my breathing as Bran’s fingers shift slightly where they are holding onto my hip.

I can almost picture my mother’s smug grin at the idea of me desiring a man. I recall swearing to my mother until I was red of face that I would never desire a man and that she need not teach me anymore. Curse her for being right in the end. I take in a deep bracing lungful of the cold air and refocus my mind. I glance over to Bran and see redness in his cheek and wonder if that is simply the cold air or if he is grappling with the same problem as I.

“There’s Winterfell now milord” announces the bearded man pointing off into the distance. I snap out of my thoughts with a shake of my head and look off to where the man is pointing. Through the mist I can make out the vague outline of the walls and towers of Winterfell. Next to me I hear Bran take in a deep breath and let out a bracing sigh.

“It will be okay my Prince” I say once more using my old title for him. “I’ll be there with you, as I promised”.

“As you’ve ever been” says Bran with a kind smile as he leans in and brushes his lips across my cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Just a few chapters of dealing with setup and then we'll get to work earning that E rating. Anyone with ideas and suggestions is welcome to let me know.


	3. Chapter 3

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 3: Stark Secrets**

"BRAN!" cheers King Jon as he darts forward to the cart. I watch with a smile on my face as the King in the North pulls his younger brother into a tight embrace, shameless of all around him. I slip off from the cart and stand to the side as a beautiful redhead runs up and inserts herself between the King and his brother. From Bran's description this must be Lady Sansa Stark. Despite the touching reunion I feel out of place here; like I am some interloper who has come to a feast uninvited.

Even though Bran's legs are on the mend, Bran suffers quietly the indignity of being carried into the castle by his elder brother. I begin to look around thinking I best leave the Stark's alone.

"Meera!" calls out Bran as he is held by his brother. "Will you come with us?" he asks, seemingly aware of my discomfort. I give Bran a thankful smile as I nod in acceptance.

Suddenly made aware of their impoliteness the redheaded Sansa moves to my side and practically drags me along beside her as King Jon carries Bran through the large wooden doors into the castle. After some stairs and a few more doors I end up following Sansa into a small, well lit solar with a warm hearth and solid table.

"Bran. Where have you been?" asks Jon as he deposits his brother into a chair by the table. Sansa slowly releases me and I edge myself around the room closer to my Prince.

"It's a long tale Jon" says Bran as he smiles thoughtfully. "But first, I need to introduce you. Jon, Sansa, this is Lady Meera Reed of Greywater Watch" he continues in his best Lordly voice. "She was with me when I travelled north". I smile and nod politely as King Jon and Lady Sansa introduce themselves. Despite having spent so long at Bran's side, I feel so out of place.

I pull up a chair and sit close to Bran as he and his siblings each talk about what has happened since the parted ways. From time to time I speak up as Bran brings me into his tale of our journey north of the Wall. I listen as Bran omits details about our travels, but I feel no need to correct him. All of what happened to us in the north need not be told.

Slowly the daylight dims through the window and food is brought in as Jon tells of how he came to be King in the North. It would seem me and Bran have not been the only ones having difficult times. We each finish our meals, and Jon goes about pouring himself a cup of ale.

"Jon. There is something I need to tell you" says Bran quietly after breaking a comfortable silence.

"You can tell me anything" says Jon seriously as he puts down his ale.

"I... you... you are not my brother Jon" says Bran choosing his words carefully. My eyes snap to Bran as he speaks his words.

"Bran don't be fooli-" begins Lady Sansa.

"No. Let me explain" says Bran running his hand over his eyes wearily. "You are my brother, but not by blood". I watch the matching confused expressions on both King Jon and Lady Sansa's faces as Bran begins to explain what he saw in his visions. As Bran mentions my father and the Tower of Joy I feel tightness in my stomach.

I listen raptly as Bran tells the tale of how his father and my own came upon the Tower of Joy, how they fought the Kingsguard, and how they found his aunt Lyanna, and Jon. The expression on Jon's face turns serious as Bran tells him who his mother and father truly were.

"Bran. This can't... you can't be serious" says Jon stunned.

"I am... I'm sorry Jon" says Bran quietly. Slowly the silence in the room feels thick and stifling as Jon, Sansa and I sit there stunned.

"This doesn't change anything Jon" says Sansa quietly as she places a soothing hand on the King's shoulder. "We're still family" she continues as Bran nods encouragingly.

"Father saved you" says Bran softly. "King Robert would have killed you". Jon looked up from his cup of ale and gives Bran an accepting smile. Slowly Jon and Bran begin talking and reminiscing about Ned Stark.

Darkness falls outside as Sansa and I go about lighting the candles, giving the room a soft warm glow.

"How long do you plan to stay in Winterfell, Lady Meera?" asks Sansa quietly as we stand at the window looking into the misty darkness.

"I... I was hoping I could stay beside Prince Bran" I say quietly as an uncomfortable blush fills my cheeks.

"You care for him... don't you" she asks softly as we turn and look back at Jon and Bran cheerfully talking.

"He is my Prince, I would do anything for him" I say trying to ignore Lady Sansa's insinuation.

"That's not what I meant" says the redhead rolling her eyes at me. "I saw how you hover around him... and how you look at him" she says with a coy smile.

"That's not... we're not..." I say hurriedly.

"Don't worry. I won't say a word" she says with a soft smile. I look back at the brothers and watch a Jon encouraging his younger brother to drink some ale. I bite back a smile as Bran gags slightly on his mouthful of ale and splutters some up.

"His legs. They are returning to him" I say to Sansa quietly.

"Gods. How? When?" she asks in surprise.

"An accident at Castle Black, he fell... again. When he awoke he could feel his legs" I tell her as she stares at her brother in wonder.

"Can he walk?" she asks.

"No, but he will" I say with conviction. Each day Bran can move his legs more and with less effort, given time he will walk once more. My mind wanders for a moment as it fills with other things Bran will also be able to do with the use of his legs.

"Bran" says Sansa sternly as she crosses the room and stands at her younger brother's side. "Why didn't you tell us your legs are healing".

"Your legs are healing!?" splutters Jon through a mouthful of ale. I watch as Bran's cheeks flush red and he looks down at the table in discomfort. I move quickly across the room and stand at Bran's side.

"I... yes my legs are healing. But it's slow, and I can barely move them" he says shamefaced as he looks between his brother and sister.

"That... that's great Bran!" cheers Jon as he reached over and slaps Bran on the back. I watch with a smile as Sansa gives her younger brother a hug and the room is soon filled with conversation. As we four sit around the cluttered table I see Lady Sansa giving me a knowing smirk every time I lean closer to Bran or place my hand on his shoulder.

If she sees it, I wonder if Bran does. Does he notice that I often spend time watching his face, does he know when he touches me it leaves tingles on my skin. We have spent so long only running and surviving that I never stopped to think on why I liked looking at my Prince, or why I enjoyed it when we curled up together to sleep.

The mist outside the window slowly turns to light snow and Jon gets up to close the wooden shutters as Bran picks at what is left of his meal.

"It's getting late" says Jon as he pours himself another ale. "I've had you're old room cleaned up for you" he says to Bran. "And I can have some guest quarters made ready for you Meera".

"We'll stay together" says Bran and I in unison. I watch as Jon's eyes glance between me and Bran before giving an accepting nod. Off to the side I see Sansa with a smirk spread across her face. Eventually Lady Sansa makes her goodbyes and heads off to her chambers, while Jon stays behind to carry his brother.

"You've gotten damned heavy" says Jon jovially as he climbs the stairs with Bran in his arms.

"I think I'm taller than you now" says Bran with a wry smirk.

"Well I look forward to seeing you prove it" replies Jon. The three of us round a corner and come upon a wooden door which I open for the brothers before following them in. "Not quite the same, but its home" says Jon. I glance around the comfortable looking room and see the crackling fire and soft bed. "Are you sure you will be comfortable here Meera?" asks Jon looking over at me as he lowers Bran onto the bed.

"I'm certain" I say as I step past him and straighten out Bran's legs for him. Bran rolls his eyes at me and I realise I still do that out of habit.

"I can do that on my own now you know" Bran says petulantly. I smirk sideways at him as I remove his boots one by one and move them aside.

"I'll see you both in the morning" says Jon looking mildly uncomfortable as he edges backwards to the door.

"Good evening your Grace" I say remembering my mother's etiquette lessons.

"That's still going to take getting used to" says Jon shaking his head as Bran bids him good evening. I watch as Jon exits the room, closing the door behind him. Out of habit I stride across the room and bar the door.

"Meera?" asks Bran looking at me from across the room. "Are you alright?"

"Of course my Prince" I say, enjoying the way that title rolls off my tongue.

"I'm sorry... that I made you feel left out all evening" he says quietly as I cross the room and begin removing my own boots.

"You didn't Bran. You were reuniting with your family" I say kindly as I drop my boots to the floor.

"But I should have made you feel more welcome around them" he says smiling bitterly.

"It was fine" I say remembering the talk I had with Sansa's. I reach over and gently tug the blankets from under Bran and cover him up. Looking about I suddenly feel uncomfortable, sharing a bed for no practical reasons feels strange.

"Meera?" says Bran looking at me with serious eyes.

"Yes?" I say sitting down next to him feeling very aware of myself.

"Earlier, I told you I had something I wanted to speak about" he says as I notice his cheeks look flushed in the flickering firelight.

"Yes?" I say again uncertainly.

"Meera, I..." he says taking a breath. "I love you". His words filter through my mind as I feel my heart halt for a moment.

"What?" I whimper out meekly.

"I said I love you" says Bran slightly more confidently than before.

"Bran..." I begin, trailing off as my mind is hazed by his admission. He said he loves me. Why would he say that? I feel my cheeks flush as my mind fills with nothingness.

"And before you say it, I'm not too young... and... and my legs are returning slowly... and I won't be a cripple... and..." he tells me quickly. Without thought I swoop in and press my lips to his, silencing him. Our faces knock together and our noses press uncomfortably against each other, but I pay no mind as my lips are pressed against Bran Starks lips. I tilt my head slightly and plant a series of soft kisses on Bran's unresponsive lips.

Even when he's not kissing me back, the heat of his lips feels like pleasant fire against my own. I pull back slightly and I inhale the gasp of air let out by my Prince. Sitting with our faces barely apart I stare into his eyes. His brown eyes, the ones that always break my moods and make me want to do anything that he says.

"Meera... I... I don't know what that means" says Bran breathlessly.

"It means I love you too" I say letting the words flow out without thinking on them. I stare softly into Bran's eyes as his hand reaches up and cups the back of my head and reels me in for another kiss. Our noses press together again, and this time Bran tilts his head as our lips move softly against each other. I feel lightheaded as we slowly trade soft kisses as Bran drags me further and further onto the bed.

Slowly our lips part and I sit there red-faced as we both breathe in deep lungfuls of air. Bran shuffles his hips to the side slightly and then raises up the blanket, offering a place to lie. A broad smile crosses my face as I slide under the blanket and curl myself up against Bran's side, pillowing my head against his shoulder.

"This might be complicated" says Bran softly as I feel his hand running up and down the curve of my back over my furs.

"I don't think your family will mind" I say smiling slightly as I think back once again to the conversation I had with Sansa.

"I hope not" says Bran with a chuckle. My body slowly relaxes and I throw my arm around Bran's middle as a comforting silence fills the room punctuated by quiet crackling fire. "I didn't plan on telling you like that" says Bran suddenly. "I only meant to tell you I wanted you to stay here with me".

"I'm glad you told me" I whisper against his chest.

"I didn't think you would think of me like that" he says. "I thought you would think I was too young".

"I thought you would think I was too old" I mutter quietly.

"After everything I don't think it matters much" he says as his hand finds its place on my hip.

"I suppose you're right" I say softly feeling a burning joy in my chest. "When you fell at Castle Black... I tried to imagine what would happen if you died. I don't think I could have gone on" I admit weakly.

"I'm sure you would have. You are the strongest person I know" he whispers to me. A smile tugs at my lips at Bran's praise as I tamp down the memories of his fall.

"I love you Bran" I say quietly as I lean up and press a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you too Meera" he whispers as he rests his cheek against my forehead. I bury my smile in his chest as silence fills the room once more. Slowly I drift off into a pleasant sleep thinking of the man I love; my Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Don't look at me like that, I put 'spoilers' in the tags.


	4. Chapter 4

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 4: Recovering & Romancing**

It's been almost a moon since Bran and I arrived in Winterfell, and time has passed quickly. King Jon introduced the people who helped him win back Winterfell from the Bolton's. Having met some of his Wilding friends, I can see why me and Bran's sleeping arrangements aren't causing any outrage amongst the castle occupants. Most everyone in the castle has been too busy putting to right what the Bolton's broke. Meanwhile Jon and Lady Sansa deal with the Northern Lords, and their concerns.

A pleased smile crosses my face as I watch my love slowly walk up and down the practice yard as he holds onto a wooden crossbeam. He's not yet strong enough to walk unaided, but he is determined not to be put off. I watch as his foot clumsily shifts forward and Bran eases his weight forwards. I give Bran an encouraging smile as he glances at me. His face is flushed with exertion but he keeps moving along the crossbeam.

I glance around and see King Jon up above us on a wooden balcony, watching his younger brother's progress with fond eyes. My eyes keep moving as I track the men carrying lumber about to shore up the walls that have fallen into disrepair under the Bolton's Lordship.

My focus shifts back to Bran, watching as he steps closer me. I give him a soft smile as he steps closer and closer to where I sit. Since our first night in Winterfell where Bran and I told each other of our love, nothing more has happened excepting for some chaste kisses and sweet words. My mother's words about men and their bedroom appetites echoes through my mind and I once more wonder if Bran finds me unappealing.

I trace my eyes over his brow, down his nose and to his lips as a soft warmth fills my chest. My eyes keep going downward as they move over his slim shoulders, his slender torso and his long legs. I certainly don't find Bran unappealing. I resist the urge to run my tongue over my lips as I focus my eyes on Bran's lips once more.

Despite professing our love for one another, our sleeping habits still feel platonic, not matter the closeness. Even the shame I felt at my desire and lust for Bran is being outweighed by bitterness at our lack of progress. A sharp flush rolls up my neck as I recall the night when half asleep Bran's hand slipped under my sleeping shift. A tingling begins running through my chest as I recall the barest touch of Bran's fingertips across the underside of my breast.

Perhaps mother was wrong about men, perhaps they don't all desire the women they love like crazed animals. Or maybe Bran is being overcautious; perhaps he is uncertain of whether I will reciprocate his advances. I shake my head and give a huff of breath as I find myself once more debating the whys of Bran and me. Maybe we just need time, I wish I knew. All I know is I owe my mother thanks for the scant knowledge I have on men and their ways.

As my mind once more refocuses on my surroundings, I notice Bran has reached the end of the crossbeam and is standing before me. I flash Bran a loving smile as I stand up and step closer. All that time north of the Wall, I never knew how tall Bran was. I never noticed how pleasant it feels to stand up next to him and stare into his warm brown eyes. On instinct I lightly bite my lip as Bran shuffles slight closer to me. One of Bran's hands remains on the crossbeam to steady himself as his other hand comes up and pulls me into his embrace.

"It's starting to snow" whispers Bran softly into my ear as he presses a kiss to my temple.

"Then we best head indoors" I say, nuzzling my cheek into the side of his neck. I take in a deep sniff of Bran's smell. A shiver rolls down my spine as Bran's comforting scent fills my mind. I really have spent so long with Bran, even his smell appeals to me. "Shall we take our meal in the hall with the others or?" I trail off.

"Perhaps in our room... again" he suggests evenly. I am glad for Bran's shoulder, for he can't see the broad smile that splits my face. I am grateful for the time Bran and I can spend together alone.

"Okay my Prince" I say pulling back and giving him a warm grin. Having decided on our evening Bran and I set out on the long walk back to our shared room. Slowly we walk and climb the stairs through the castle as Bran leans on me for support. From time to time it strikes me as odd that I am completely unbothered by our nature; how it feels perfectly natural for me to support Bran.

I step away from Bran as he leans against as stone wall, whilst I go make arrangements for our evening meal. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the young servant girl who gives a knowing smirk as I tell her Prince Stark and I shall be having our meal in our room. There is probably nobody in Winterfell who doesn't know of me and Bran's situation. I turn away from the servant girl and step close to Bran and let him wrap his arm around my waist for us to make the rest of the climb to our room.

We step through the door into what has become our room near the top of the east tower. The irony is not lost on me that the former cripple's room was at the top of a tower. Bran eases himself down into the comfortable chair next to the fireplace while I quickly move over to the window and close the wooden shutters to keep out the winters cold.

I walk back across the room and brush my hand across Bran's shoulders as I move past him to the fireplace. I kneel down and drop a few logs into the fire and after a moment with some flint and tinder the fire begins coming to life. I suppose all that practice making fires north of the Wall was not for nothing.

As I turn back to Bran with a triumphant smile at my fire building skills I notice his glassy gaze and flushed cheeks. A moment's concern for my love passes through my mind before it dawns on me.

"Bran, were you staring at my arse?" I ask feeling a smile spring to my lips.

"I... er... no" he says uncertainly.

"Yes you were" I say teasingly as I step closer. I think my worries about Bran not desiring me were unfounded. I feel warmth fill my belly as I slide myself into the chair next to Bran.

"I'm sorry" he mutters shamefaced as he looks down. An odd irritation wells within me at his words.

"Bran?" I ask softly. "Do you find me plain?"

"What?! God's no Meera" he says looking almost horrified. I smile as the warmth from before returns to my belly with a huge intensity. "I've always thought you were beautiful" he whispers lovingly while reaching over and taking my hand.

"Bran..." I rasp softly feeling lost for words. Quickly I stand up and drop myself into Bran's lap. I feel his hands come up and rest on my hips as I lean in and press a firm kiss to his lips. Our teeth knock together with the force of our kiss as I drive myself forwards aiming to kiss my Prince senseless.

I never thought anyone would find me beautiful. It was something I had accepted when I was younger; but being beautiful in the eyes of another was never important, not until Bran. Bran's lips feel like fire against mine as he gets over his surprise and begins kissing me back with equal fervour.

I feel Bran's hands slide up and down my sides stroking against my new clothing. Bran's breath rolls across my face, leaving tingles as mixes and mingles with my own desperate exhales. Slowly I become aware of the soft warmth of Bran's tongue as it pokes at my lips begging me entry into my mouth.

Without a second thought I part my lips and feel Bran's pliant tongue press into my mouth and begin running along my teeth. In the back of my mind I recall my mother's words about men and kissing. A man who kisses passionately will care about your pleasure she would say. Bran certainly feels like a passionate kisser, I think warmly.

On a whim I part my teeth and gently nip at Bran's tongue. The soft groan that rumbles up through his chest thrills me to the core. Slowly I pull back and take in a deeply needed breath of air. My eyes focus on the single strand of our spit hanging between our lips. I watch mesmerized as it slowly droops and bursts across Bran's well kissed lips.

"I was starting to think you had no desire for me" I whisper softly as Bran looks at me with glassed over eyes.

"I... was afraid I'd do something you didn't want" he says.

"There is nothing about you I don't want" I admit without any shame. I lean in and press quick chaste kiss to Bran's lips. "I told you I love you and I mean it".

"As do I" he says grinning warmly at me, "I just kept thinking that you might disapprove of my desire to make love to you, before being married". My stomach does a flip. Us, married? In the time we've been here in Winterfell, I've thought on being married to Bran; but never had I considered it in any realistic way.

"After everything Bran..." I say warmly, "...I don't think being married has any bearing on us making love".

"Are you sure?" he asks hesitantly.

"Without question" I say smiling as I lean in and press a deep kiss to his lips. After being north of the Wall, after the White Walkers, after Jojen and Hodor; I have no desire to hesitate in having and loving Bran Stark to the fullest. Bran's hand slowly slides around my hip and over my belly before working its way up and cupping my breast through my new leathers and furs. A groan drags out of my throat as his fingers press more insistently into my flesh. I pull back with a flushed face as my mind fills with lusty thoughts of what is to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Don't glare at me like that, you saw the rating, you know what's coming.  
> -Also I am duel posting this on FF.net as well as here. Over there a reviewer let me know they were having difficulty reading my dialog (as in who's speaking etc) as well as issues with the use of present tense. If anyone's having similar troubles/issues, please let me know.


	5. Chapter 5

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 5: Exchanging Bliss**

I smile down at Bran from my vantage point sitting astride him in the comfortable chair in our room. Bran's confidence slowly builds as his hand fondling my breast slowly becomes more and more insistent. Tingles shoot down through my core in time with Bran's movements, drawing out rumbling groans from my throat.

My eyes trace over Bran's soft brown eyes, and then down his nose and over his jaw, to where his neck meets his shoulder. Acting on impulse I lean in and lave a long lick across his neck.

"Gods Meera" gasps Bran. I press a smile against his skin while I run my hand up through his shaggy brown hair. Bran's hand comes up and cups under my chin and pushes me off his shoulder to look into his eyes. "Love you" he whispers.

"Love you too my Prince" I say softly.

"Don't have to call me Prince you know" he says with a lopsided smile.

"But I want to call you Prince" I say honestly.

"Even if I were your husband?" he asks with a smirk. I give an enthusiastic nod before swooping in to return my lips to their rightful place. Slowly building speed, Bran and I begin trading burning wet kisses. A jolt of desire strikes me as Bran's thumb runs under my jaw and brushes against the base of my throat. The man I love has his hand pressed softly against my throat and I feel no fear, only a potent mix of love and lust.

The sound of our messy kissing fills the room, echoing off the stonework walls. I move my lip in tandem with Bran's as we each angle our heads for better access. Slowly I feel Bran's hand on my hip shift downward as it grips forcefully into my arse.

What I hope is a feminine grunt escapes my lips to be muffled against Bran's as he fondles my arse. On indistinct alone I rock my hips downwards into Bran's lap drawing out a startled grunt from him. Pulling back, Bran stares at me with what can only be described as pure lust in his eyes.

"Keep that up and I'll spend in my smallclothes" groans Bran as I roll my hips down into him again.

"Perhaps I want you to" I say with a grin. A strong feminine power washes over me as I grind my hips down against Bran's once more drawing out a pleasurable grunt from my Prince. I interlock my fingers behinds Bran's neck and lean back continue rolling my hips rhythmically.

As I shift the angle of my hips suddenly pressure strikes against my womanhood sending a jolt up pleasure rocking up my spine. I let out a low whine as I feel myself begin to spoil my smallclothes with my dampening womanhood. I continue rocking and grinding my hips down, now bringing us mutual pleasure. I try to maintain composure as I'm determined to watch my love's pleasure, but it's difficult with the slow burning ache that is building between my legs.

I feel Bran's hand drops from my throat to my breast as he begins once again fondling it in sync with the rolls of my hips. Experimentally I drive myself down onto Bran's lap, causing us to each let out matching groans as Bran's hand grips forcefully into my breast. I smile splits my face as I realise that with each roll of my hips, Bran's grip tightens on my arse and breast.

The burning knot between my legs tightens as I continue rhythmically rolling my hips. I can feel my pleasure building as each grind of my womanhood down onto Bran's draws out ever more desperate gasps from us.

I know what is to come, mother taught me. But I never exactly understood her explanation until now.

"Meera. I... please... stop" says Bran between grunts of pleasure as his hand slips from my breast to my arse. "I'm going to come".

"Want you to" I practically command as I watch Bran's eyelids flutter with each roll of my hips. Bran's head lolls back as his breath comes in deep pants, matching my own. I feel my muscles in my back burn with overuse but I ignore them completely as I chase our pleasure.

"Meera!" he shouts out in warning as his hands each grip tightly on my arse. I watch in delirious fascination as Bran's head drops back and a long growling groan rumbles up through his chest and out his mouth. Bran's grip on my arse gives him leverage as he rocks himself upwards into me half a dozen times as his body works its way through its release.

I cease moving my hips in spite of the desperate and wet unfulfilled need burning between my legs. I watch closely as a bead of sweat drips down Bran's forehead to be lost in his brow. Bran takes in deep pants of air as a flush fills his cheeks. I stay seated patiently in my lover's lap as he regains his senses slowly and his eyes meet with my own.

"Did you... spend?" I ask feeling uncertain for a moment as I wonder if I misunderstood what was happening. Bran gives a loose nod, bringing a warm smile to my lips with the knowledge I have pleasured my lover. "Good?" I ask idly. Bran's face splits into an awed smile as he nods.

"Very good" he says. Slowly I feel Bran's grip on my arse loosen as he relaxes into the chair. "But I'll need to change my smallclothes".

"Worth it" I mutter softly I brush my fingers through his slightly damp hair.

"Did you?" asks Bran looking at me meaningfully. I give Bran a soft frown as I try to understand his meaning. "Did you finish?" he asks as his cheeks flush slightly. Oh, that's what he meant.

"No" I say quietly as I feel the deep unfulfilled throbbing between my legs.

"Help me to the bed" says Bran with a grin, "I'll fix that". I feel joy bubble through my chest at the idea of Bran caring for my pleasure. A wave of excitement shoots through me as I slip off Bran's lap and begin helping him up. As I do, I don't fail to notice the slowly spreading patch of dampness on the front of his breeches.

Slowly the pair of us wobbles over to the bed on unsteady, pleasure wracked legs. I deposit Bran onto the bed and let him shuffle himself awkwardly into the middle.

"Could you pass the washcloth?" asks Bran pointing over to the basin in the corner. I hurriedly move over to the basin and damp the washcloth in the water before returning to the bedside. I hope Bran doesn't realise how eager I am for us to continue. I hand Bran the washcloth and watch as he carefully unlaces his breeches. My eyes burn into the small patch of hair at his groin as I watch Bran sheepishly lower the washcloth into his smallclothes and begins cleaning himself.

After a moment, Bran removes the washcloth and his had as his face flushes red at my desiring gaze. Without thought I sit on the bed and begin kicking off my boots. Beside me Bran removes his boot and drops them over the side of the bed. As my boots drop to the floor I feel Bran's arms encircle me as he pulls me back against his body. I feel a soft wet kiss pressed against the side of my neck as Bran's hands circle under my arms and grope at my breasts.

"Want to see you" groans Bran as his fingers reawaken the fire between my legs. "All of you".

"Okay" I whisper nodding like a fool. Despite his hands being in the way I slowly go about unlacing my fur and leather tunic. Bran slowly catches on and his hands begin assisting me by pulling the tunic off and dropping it to the floor. I feel a shiver run through me, but the cold isn't entirely to blame. I glance sideways and see Bran's face as he leans in and presses a sloppy kiss to my shoulder. Distracted by his mouth I don't feel Bran's hands as the pull at the hem of my undershirt, before he drags it upwards and over my head.

For a moment it strikes me as odd that I feel no shyness. But with Bran that is to be expected. I turn over and give Bran a warm smile as I bare my breasts to him. That smile goes unseen as Bran's eyes are fixed to my breasts.

"Beautiful" Bran mutters as his hand slowly comes up and brushes along the underside of my breasts. I feel a swell of pride at Bran's words. Perhaps my chest is not as flat as I thought. A groan is dragged out of me as Bran's fingers work themselves upwards to my nipple. I feel a jolt run up my spine once more as Bran's plays lightly with my pink nipple.

Bran's hand comes up and grasps the back of my head as he drags me in for a kiss. The potent mix of Bran's burning kisses and his playful fingers on my breast once again causes me to dampen my smallclothes.

"More" I beg between Bran's hot kisses. "Please". A displeased whimper leaves my throat as Bran's hand leaves my breast and begins sliding down my belly, leaving a tingling in its wake.

"May I?" whispers Bran in breathless voice as his fingers rest on the laces of my breeches. I pull my lips back and look Bran deep in his eyes. I give Bran what I hope is a sultry smile as I nod gently. The anticipation burns at me as Bran's fingers fumble with unlacing my breeches.

As Bran gets my breeches open I roll onto my back next to him. I lift my hips to help as Bran practically tears off my breaches and throws them somewhere across the room. I watch Bran shuffle himself into a sitting position at my side as I lay here on the bed, wearing only my smallclothes. A quick look into Bran's eyes leaves me flushed and slick as I see the hungry look he is wearing.

Time feels sluggish as Bran's hand slowly descends and rests possessively over my belly. I keep my eyes focused on Bran's as his hand slowly slides down over my smallclothes and rests lightly over my womanhood.

"You're wet" he notes with a look of awe.

"You caused it" I say almost accusingly as his hand slowly begins rubbing soft circles over my womanly mound. I see a smirk tug at Bran's lips as his hand slowly circles over my now slick folds. A long drawn out gasp forces itself out of my mouth as Bran's fingers being playing over the outline of my lower lips. "More!" I gasp. I close my eyes as Bran's hand slides away from where I want it, and up to my belly. I almost protest before Bran's hand flicks under the waistband of my smallclothes and pressed into my wet womanhood.

I long moan slips past my lips as Bran's hand touches my womanhood bare for the first time. Not the last, I hope. As Bran's fingers slip up and down my tingling folds I feel his lips press warmly to my shoulder. Slowly I begin to notice the bubble of pleasure building in my core as Bran's fingers play experimentally with my outer lips. I feel Bran take a moment to rake his fingers through the curls of hair on my mound before slipping back down to where I need it most.

"There... rig—right there" I say as Bran's finger flicks over the nub at the top of my womanly folds.

"Here?" Bran whispers as his finger retraces its path and presses back into my nub. I let loose a short squeal as Bran's fingers begin playing with that spot over and over. The bubble of pleasure expands faster and faster as Bran pinches my nub between his thumb and forefinger.

"Uhng... please" I beg shamelessly as I feel my pleasure coming to a head. "Please". I feel Bran's teeth nip lightly at my bared shoulder as his fingers begin circling my nub of pleasure, drawing short sharp moans out of me. "I'm about..." I say trailing off as I loll my head back. My hips start jolting upwards, pressing Bran's hand harder and harder into me. I open my eyes and fix my gaze to Bran's face as he looks at me. Never has there been a moment in my life where I've felt more womanly, more desired and more loved than this one.

Bran's fingers slide up and down my sopping cunt as I rhythmically lift my hips wantonly into his hand. My eyes are bound, looking into Bran's brown eyes as his hand fondles me towards my pleasure. I feel his fingers once more pinch my nub, and I am floating as I succumb to bliss. My hips spasm upwards as I let out a long drawn out moan of pleasure. My vision darkens slightly as my whole body goes rigid.

"I'm coming" I manage to gasp out as I close my eyes and lean back into the pillows. The waves of pleasure crash through me, filling my mind with bliss. I take in desperate pants of air and my hips slowly stop bucking. Bran's finger slides up and down my now flushed folds, but I reach down into my smallclothes and halt Bran's hand. "No more" I whimper hoarsely.

"Okay" mutters Bran as he sits back against the pillows. The room slowly fills with silence, only punctuated by my heavy breathing. "You look amazing when you come" he whispers in a hushed voice as he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. I feel my face go red slightly at his words, but I'm too occupied with the warm glow I feel echoing through me.

"You know..." I say looking up at him. "...now I know how you felt all that time north of the Wall".

"What?" asks Bran with a confused expression.

"I can't feel my legs" I say breathlessly with a cheeky smile. I watch for a moment before Bran lets out a deep chuckle.

"That a good thing?" asks Bran softly as he moves closer and takes me in his arms.

"Mhm" I hum approvingly as I feel the last of my pleasure slowly echoing away. I press my cheek against Bran's chest and let out contented sigh. Slowly I raise my leg and begin stroking my calf against Bran's leg. The realisation that I've still yet to make love to Bran fills my mind with a warm glee. "Bran?" I say.

"Yeah" he says quietly.

"Now can I see all of you?" I ask barely concealing my desire as I think of the man I love unclothed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Fun fact, choosing correct words to describe genitals when the characters involved aren't particularly vulgar is a chore.


	6. Chapter 6

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 6: Exchanging Virtue**

I watch enthralled as Bran give's a bashful smile before his hands move unsteadily to his tunic laces. I bite back a smile at the thought of Bran being shy after he made me come. The laces at Bran's chest pull loose and Bran tugs his tunic and undershirt off. I bite the inside of my cheek as Bran's pale skin slowly becomes visible to me, shadowed in the flickering firelight.

Unable to resist the urge, I reach out and run my hand over Bran's shoulder and down across his chest. I feel the soft prickle of wispy hair under my fingers as I run my hands along his chest. I feel a jolt of surprise as I notice for the first time how compact his chest is. I suppose if you had to use your arms to move around, you'd have a stronger upper body.

My hand runs along Bran's wiry shoulders and down his arm. I lock eyes with Bran and see an amused look spread across his face.

"What? You seemed happy to play with my tits all evening" I mutter defensively. I glance back down at Bran's body as I continue tracing my fingers down Bran's arm before coming to the burn-like brand on his forearm. "Bran..." I whisper softly, seeing the hand shaped mark for the first time.

"The Night King" he says, reminding me.

"Does it hurt?" I ask feeling slightly foolish.

"Not anymore" he answers looking bitterly at the cherry-red handprint. Without any conscious thought I lean over and press my lips as gently as I can to the red blemish. I let out my tongue for a moment as I lave it against the mark. Turning my head and nuzzle my cheek against the mark as I look up into Bran's eyes.

"You're very handsome you know" I say, drawing out a blush from Bran as he looks away. "You are!" I insist.

"My brothers were the handsome ones" says Bran looking down at me with an unreadable expression. "I was the one who liked to climb". It suddenly occurs to me that Bran left Winterfell for the north long before he had the chance to enjoy the attentions of the young women of Winterfell; something for which I feel uncomfortably grateful.

"Take me at my word my love" I say smiling up at my Prince. "You are very handsome". I watch Bran give a stubborn nod that would indicate he still believes otherwise. I suppose if he is unconvinced I'll just have to prove it.

With an impish smile I lower my hand to Bran's breeches and tug playfully at the already unlaced cords.

"You haven't distracted me, I still want to see all of you" I say playfully.

"Okay" Bran says in a hushed voice as his hands move to his waistband and slowly edges his breeches and smallclothes down past his hips. As his breeches lower, I trail my eyes down wisps of hair at his navel before coming to rest on his manhood. I feel a blush fill my cheeks as I continue to stare at the length. He isn't hard, I know that much. And I can see a little of the dampness left behind from our earlier teasing in the chair.

Bran finishes removing his clothes and drops them somewhere out of sight. A moment of nervousness washes over me as I recall my mother's lessons at the unpleasantness I will feel the first time I make love. Her words of the stretched pain and the fullness pass through me as my mind fills with fears. What if I can't fit him? What if he finds my womanhood unpleasant?

"Meera?" says Bran catching my attention. "Say something?" I quickly look up into Bran's eyes and see that a bright red flush has filled his cheeks.

"Sorry" I mumble shamefaced. "It's just I've never seen one".

"Good" Bran whispers as his hand comes up and cups the back of my head to drag my lips up to his own. On instinct I throw my leg over Bran's hips and sit astride him as my lips press into his. We trade slow languid kisses as Bran's hand smooth over my arse still clad in smallclothes.

I bury my hands in Bran's mess of hair we deepen our kiss, filling the room with indecent slurping sounds. Bran's hands slide under my smallclothes and I feel his fingers grip tightly on to my arse. A pleased groan rumbles up through my chest to be muffled against Bran's lips as his fingers prod and stroke playfully with my arse cheeks.

Feeling a press between my thighs I become aware of Bran's manhood becoming engorged beneath me. I break our kiss reluctantly and slide back to sit over Bran's legs. I look down at Bran's cock and my heart skips a beat. It's long and narrow with a swollen bright red head. It curves up as it juts out from amongst the slightly slick black curls of hair. It twitches slightly in time with Bran's heavy breathing as I feel its scent filling my mind with lusty thoughts.

"Does it look... odd?" asks Bran. I look up and see his uncertain expression.

"No. It looks... manly" I say honestly as I try to find the right word to describe my feelings for this pillar of flesh. "Can I?" I ask gesturing to his throbbing manhood. Bran gives a slow nod and I waste no time in reaching out and wrapping my fingers around his cock.

It's surprisingly soft, but still firm; like silk wrapped around molten iron. Beneath my fingertips his cock feels inhumanly warm. I run my thumb over the swollen red tip and Bran lets out a shuddering groan. I look up at Bran's face and see his head leaned back and his mouth slacked open. A jolt of womanly power rocks through me as I give Bran's cock a playful stroke.

Bran lets out a deep grunt as I smile triumphantly. I look down and see beaded drops of slickness along the tip of his cock that weren't there before. Did I do that? Experimentally I increase the grip of my hands and give Bran a firm stroke.

"Meera!" says Bran reaching down to halt my hand. "You're going to make me come... I want to make love to you first" he says with a serious expression. I grin impishly at Bran as he reaches forward and grips the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. The soft heat of Bran's kiss distracts me as Bran's hand comes up to my shoulder and he rolls us sideways. I let out a squeal as I find myself lying on my back with Bran looming over me. A thrill runs through my belly as Bran leans over me and presses a series of soft kisses over my lips and cheeks.

Bran parts out lips and leans back to look at me. I smile as I notice his eyes are once more glued to my breasts. Bran runs his tongue along his lower lip before swooping in and swirling his warm tongue around my pink nipple. An unrestrained gasp escapes me as I feel Bran take my nipple into his mouth. Tingles of pleasure wash through me as Bran's hand comes up to fondle my unoccupied breast as his mouth tweaks and plays with my nipple at his leisure. Between my legs I feel myself becoming slick with want.

Looking down at Bran's mouth latched onto my nipple fills my heart with a powerful emotion. My mind fills with a vision of a small brown haired Stark babe suckling from my breast as its father, Bran hovers protectively nearby. I watch as Bran presses my small breasts together and peppers the newly formed cleavage with kisses. A languid appreciative moan slips out of my mouth as I watch Bran tease my breasts.

"Bran" I say drawing his attention. "Make love to me" I say confidently. I watch with bated breath as Bran leans back and his fingers come to rest on the waistband of my smallclothes. Bran looks up and catches my eye as if asking for final permission. Permission I gladly give with an eager nod and loving smile.

Appeased, Bran returns his attentions to my smallclothes as he drags them down my hips exposing my small thatch of brown curls and my slick womanly folds. Bran shuffles awkwardly back as he pulls off my smallclothes and leaves it hanging off my ankle before returning to hover over me.

"It's blushing" he says, staring at my womanhood.

"No its not" I argue feeling foolish. I look down closely at where Bran is looking at find that my outer lips are flushed pink. "Okay, perhaps it is" I admit as Bran grins up at me.

"It's beautiful" says Bran awed as he gazes on my exposed nether lips for the first time. I let out a low whine as Bran runs his thumb along my slit and twists it against my nub of pleasure for good measure.

"It's not an 'it'" I say trying to sound humorous, but failing. It turns out its difficult to joke as the man you love plays with your pleasure slicked folds. Bran gives an amused shake of his head before leaning in and pressing a hot kiss to my lips. As Bran's tall body leans over me I suddenly feel Bran's burning hot cock press along the curls between my thighs. Without thought I part my thighs and lets Bran's hips settle against mine.

I pry open my eyes and watch as Bran pants with the exertion of using his legs as he shifts his hips and lines his cock along my folds. His hand shifts down between us and grasps his cock around the middle before running it up and down my wet slit.

"Here?" asks Bran looking up at me sheepishly.

"Lower, I think" I say uncertainly as I reach down between us and bat aside Bran's hand and take a hold of his manhood myself. Failing to resist the temptation, I slide Bran's cock up and down over my nub causing us to each let out a gasp at the sudden pressure. I bite into my lip lightly as I lower Bran's cockhead down and press it between my wet lips. I wriggle my hips side to side slightly trying to get the stubborn cockhead wedged between the lips.

As I fumble about trying to line us up Bran leans forwards over me bracing himself on his forearms on either side of me. I let out an undignified grunt as Bran's cockhead fits itself just inside my womanly channel.

"You feel amazing" whispers Bran in a husky voice as I look into his loving brown eyes. Bran shifts his hips; causing a strangled groan to rip out of me as his cock drives slightly deeper into me.

"Do it. Put it in..." I say looking to the eyes of the man I love, "...all in one go".

"Okay" whispers Bran giving a gentle nod. Bran awkwardly shifting his legs into a better position as I brace myself for what's to come by taking in a deep breath; my eyes fixed to Bran's kind face

With a quick push of his hips Bran's cock spears forward into my weeping womanhood and tears through my maidenhead. Pain slices through my core and I let out a strangled scream. The uncomfortable fullness echoes through me as I feel Bran touching my deepest depths.

"Meera?" asks Bran with a panicked concern that makes me smile despite the dull pain.

"It's okay. It's normal" I say with a weak smile. "Just give me a moment". Bran gives me a nod before leaning in and resting his forehead against mine.

"You're so tight" he groans almost reverently. The dull pain echoes through me as I slowly become accustomed to the fullness between my legs. I bring my hands up and curve over Bran's shoulder and press my fingers deep into his back.

"Kiss me" I plead weakly as I look up at Bran. Barely a moment passes before Bran's lips descend upon mine and we kiss slowly like we're afraid that we'll break one another. I flex my thighs against Bran's sides and feel his cock shift inside me. Our lips halts as we each let out a muffled groan. I break the kiss and thrust my hips upwards and feel Bran's cock spear me deeper. "You can move" I say feeling more confident I can bear the discomfort.

"I love you" Bran whispers softly before drawing his cock out of my tight channel.

"I love you too" I say breathlessly as I find myself enthralled by his loving gaze. With a quick thrust of his hips, Bran's cock drives deep into my core.

"Gods" groans Bran as he leans his sweat damp forehead against mine before drawing back his hips and driving into me again. Bran lets out low grunts and murmurs with each drive of his cock as he begins to form a slow rhythm. With each thrust of his cock I feel my depths becoming more and more accommodating of his length. I watch fascinated as intense expressions of pleasure cross Bran's face and I lean up to place a kiss on his lips.

The dull pinching feeling of my now split maidenhead slowly becomes mixed in with the warm tingling of Bran's cock sliding over my inner walls.

"So good" mutters Bran, barely aware of his own words. A moment of clarity sweeps over me and I feel a giddy awareness that I am making love to Bran Stark. I feel my heart fill with pride that I am causing these indecent noises escaping Bran's lips. His desperate pants of air wash over my face as his hips continue thrusting forward in a slow steady pace. "Meera... I'm go—going to come" groans Bran as his expression melts into one of immense pleasure.

"It's okay" I say, reassuringly. "Do it. Fill me" I say without any shame for my indecent words. Bran's cock continues thrusting into me as he picks up speed. The room fills with Bran's desperate grunts and groans as he nears his completion. I let out a low whine as his cockhead rubs against a sensitive spot within me. I start to feel the now familiar slow building bubble of blissful pleasure that begins to drown out the pinching pain.

Bran's thrusting cock begins sending out waves of bliss to my head, reminding me of his fingers earlier. I know I won't come like this, but I am gladdened to know I can find pleasure from our love making. Bran's face contorts into a blissful expression as I feel his cock twitching deep within my channel.

"Meera!" cries out Bran as his hips snap forward and his cock slides into my depths once more. The room fills with Bran's low drawn out groan as he spills his seed deep within me. I feel his strength give out as his weight crashes comfortably on top of me. I graze my nails up and down Bran's back as I rub my thighs along his side, comforting him as his release overwhelms him.

From deep within I feel the warmth of his seed slicking my inner walls as I turn my head and lay soft kisses along Bran's neck and shoulder. I pull back slightly and look at Bran's face. His expression has softened and his eyes look hazy as he stares at me in a way that makes me feel like a goddess. Slowly his breathing returns to normal and he rolls onto his side.

I let out a dull whine as Bran's cock pulls free and I feel his slick seed flow out of my womanhood. Bran drops onto his back next to me, depriving me of his warmth. A perverse notion comes to mind as I run my hand down my belly and over my seed slicked folds. I scoop up a little of his seed and look closely at it. Bran turns his head to look at me with an odd expression.

"What if you get with child?" asks Bran quietly as I rub the seed between my fingers.

"Would you want to be a father?" I ask softly as I turn to look at him. I watch as a soft frown crosses his face while he thinks for a moment.

"If you were the mother?" whispers Bran shifting closer and sliding his arm under my head, "yes, without question". I feel my chest swell with pride as my imagined vision of Bran's child suckling at my breast once more rushes through my mind. I curl myself closer to Bran as I wipe the seed from my fingers onto my breast without care.

Bran reaches over my head and grabs the washcloth and goes about cleaning his cock without any of the bashfulness from earlier. Bran pulls back the washcloth and sees the pink blood stain from where he took my maidenhood.

"I'm sorry it hurt" Bran says kindly as he offers me the washcloth.

"It started to feel better near the end" I say with a sideways grin as I take the offered washcloth. Briefly I consider leaving my womanhood heavy with his seed in the hopes I bare a child. But I shake aside the thoughts and run the washcloth quickly over my lower lips and scoop up the seed, blood and fluid. "Mother said it would feel better after the first time" I say as I drop the washcloth over the side of the bed.

"I think we got different lessons on love making" mutters Bran with a wry grin. I let out a soft chuckle as I reach over and pull the blanket over us.

"I love you my Prince" I whisper quietly as I lay my cheek over his chest.

"Love you too my beautiful crannog" says Bran quietly before dropping a kiss on top of my head. At his words, a languid satisfied smile washes over my face. My hand comes to rest over his gently beating heart. I feel the soft warmth of our naked bodies pressed together as we curl closer. Bran's hand begins softly stroking through my curly hair, lulling me to sleep. The urge to close my eyes and succumb to sleep becomes harder and harder to resist as the sounds of the crackling fire fill the room.

In the soft firelight I glance over to the doorway. My eyes fall upon the platter of steaming food that sits on top of the table by the door and I suddenly recall our planned evening meal.

"Fuck" I curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for the delay (especially to Alis). I swear I will donate a damned kidney to anyone who can think of a better word for clitoris, hell I'll donate two.


	7. Chapter 7

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 7: The Morning Cometh**

Bran's warmth shifts beside me, waking me from my sleep. I crack a bleary eye and glance about the darkened bedroom. Between the cracks in the shutters I can see the morning light streaming through, casting long lines across the room. Feeling the need to stretch I try to shuffle out of bed, only to be stopped by Bran's arms locking around my belly, pulling me back into his warmth.

A smirk crosses my face as I look over at Bran as he presses himself closer. Instantly the memories of the night before flash through my mind, bringing a flush of red to my cheeks. I made love to Bran Stark. My chest is filled with a radiating joy. As if to check I was not misremembering, I lift the blanket slightly to see if I am still naked. I am; we definitely made love.

I feel deep ache of fulfillment from within as I turn slightly in Bran's arms to look upon his face; it's always so peaceful when he sleeps. Without his worries or any dangers to distract him, he looks calm and sweet. My eyes traces over his soft lips. I always described his lips as soft, but I can now say so with a prideful certainty. More pride fills me as I recall his lips latched onto my nipple and his tongue laving against my breast. Feeling the need to recall the sensation, I bring my hand up and press at my cold-hardened nipple.

Leaning over I flutter my lips along Bran's cheek with a feather-light touch. A deep inhale through my nose fills my mind with my lover's unique scent, twisting my self control into knots. Bran's eyes flutter slightly as he continues to dream despite my lips. I wonder if he's dreaming of me. Pressing more insistently, my lips now work over Bran's nose down to his lips. I feel a languid smile grace Bran's face under my lips as I drop slow kisses against his provably soft lips.

"Meera" whispers Bran sleepily between kisses. I watch his eye creak open, affording me a look into his loving brown eyes.

"Good morning my Prince" I say in a soft bedroom whisper. Before I can ask him how he slept Bran pounces upwards and steals my lips for his own. My shock quickly wears off and I begin to move my lips against his in a slow relaxed rhythm. None of our usual intensity enters this kiss, but somehow it feels more meaningful. I suppose this is the kiss of lovers, content and well fucked. A frown crosses my face for a moment as I wonder what my mother would think of my language.

I twist my body around, leaning further over Bran as we trade wet lazy kisses. Without warning I feel Bran's hand trail from my side across my belly and down over my womanly mound. I muffle a moan against Bran's lips as his thumb rubs gently up and down my nether lips.

"Mmm" I hum in lazy approval, breaking our kiss.

"Good morning" Bran finally answers as his finger prods at my nub of pleasure, dragging a sigh from my lips.

"Is this how it's going to be each morning? I wake you up and you fondle me?" I ask humorously.

"Do you want me to stop?" Bran asks, his hand halting its ministrations.

"Gods no" I whisper grinding my hips downwards against his hand. Between my legs I feel the dull ache from the loss of my maidenhead the night before, but the slow waves of pleasure from Bran's hand help me ignore it. Bran's fingers slide up and down between my folds as his thumb rubs slow soothing circles against my nub. I moan blissfully as I lose the strength to hold myself up and flop down against Bran's shoulder.

"Your cunt is so soft" whispers Bran against my ear, shocking me at his use of a vulgarity.

"Whe—where did you learn that word" I ask between moans.

"Older brothers" says Bran evenly as his other hand wraps around my neck. Bran's fingers twitch against the insides of my folds as his thumb continues working my nub. I feel a tight bubble of pleasure growing inside of me, waiting for its moment to burst.

"More" I whimper, pleading as I rock my hips against his hand. "Please" I beg, feeling my end approaching. Bran's hand speeds up and I feel my lungs burning with lack of air. My moans and gasps fill the room as Bran's hand continues tormenting me with blissful sensations. The scandalous sound of squelching and slicking echoes through the room as my lovers hand works me over.

"Are you going to come?" asks Bran in a husky voice. I nod frantically against his shoulder; silently pleading he pushes me ever closer to the fast approaching edge of an intense climax. As if to torment me Bran's hand slips away just as I feel close to cresting my peak. I half raise my head to protest, but Bran just smirks at me as his hand dives back between my legs and pinches my nub. The mix of pain and pleasure slams through me as I moan wantonly and feel myself fall off the edge and into bliss.

My body bucks and jolts with the shock of climaxing and I drop my head against Bran's shoulder limply. My vision sparkles with bursts of white, while Bran's hand rests possessively against my mound. His other hand strokes gently down my back, leaving pleasant tingles in its wake. Distantly I hear Bran making soothing hushing noises as I feel the waves of my pleasure recede. Bran's hand slowly detaches itself from my womanhood and grips onto my hip, holding me against him tightly.

"So... do you not wish me to fondle you each morning?" asks Bran in a smug voice. Feeling he has earned his smugness I lean myself forward and press a sloppy wet kiss to his lips.

"I wasn't truly complaining" I say, trying to defend myself while still partly senseless from climax. Silence fills the room as my breathing returns to normal, and my mind regains the capacity for rational argument. "I was merely asking if we were starting a new ritual".

"It's a good ritual" whispers Bran with a warm smile. I lean my cheek against Bran's chest and let the relaxation sink into my bones. Out the corner of my eyes I spot the untouched food platter from last night and let out a groan. "What's wrong?" asks Bran.

"Food platter" I mutter grumpily, reminding him.

"Oh" groans Bran as he eyes the wooden platter with irritation. By time everyone breaks fast, the whole castle will know that Bran and I made love last night.

"We could just have the cold food for our morning meal?" I suggest as a way to avoid the castle occupants this morning.

"They'll still know" mutters Bran, rubbing his palm against his eye in frustration, "might as well get it out of the way sooner". I hate that he's right. It won't change whether we leave our room now or next week, we'll still be the source of some saucy jokes and scolding reprimands. I roll to the side as Bran makes to sit up and make ready for the long day ahead. As the blanket shifts I notice the bulge of his cock. I sit myself up with a wicked smirk as thoughts of vengeance fill my mind.

"Wait" I say pushing him back to the pillows with a palm on his chest. "It won't do for a Prince to walk around Winterfell with a hard cock" I say with a teasing grin. "Rumours of my inadequacy would begin to spread".

"Meera, It'll go down in time—" says Bran rolling his eyes.

"I cannot risk it" I interrupt with a mask of seriousness, "my pride is at stake". Without any grace I fling back the blanket and expose Bran's cock to the morning chill. Reaching out eagerly I wrap my fingers tightly around his manhood and listen with satisfaction at Bran's groan of delight. This must be the best revenge ever enacted upon my Prince. With a lusty smile I begin pumping my fist up and down over his cock.

I watch as Bran's head rolls back and his jaw goes slack as he lets out gasps and grunts in time with my pumping. The same dampness from last evening begins to slick out from his cockhead aiding me in my efforts. I wonder if men get slick like women do. A rush of womanly power fills me as I stroke in even longer strokes. I lean in and press a hot wet kiss over his cold-hardened nipple.

"Meera" grunts Bran. "I'm going— I'm going to come" he stutters out as his hips buck weakly into my hand. I lean back and watch the expression of torturous pleasure cross his face. I watch with immense satisfaction at the noises and expressions I am causing in my lover.

"Come for me Bran" I whisper, kneeling next to him. Bran's eyes spring open and he stares into my own eyes desperately as the indecent slicking sounds of my pumping hand fill the room. Between his groans I see Bran trying to form words with his mouth, but none reach my ears. I tighten my grip on his cock, pumping him mercilessly.

With a final yell, Bran's hips bucks up and he comes, releasing as his seed in twitching spurts. I keep stroking his cock, my hand becoming slick with seed as Bran groans and his body shudders and writhes. I watch an errant spurt of seed arc through the air and land on my belly. I notice Bran biting at his lip as I slow my hand and ease off my grip.

"Bran?" I ask quietly.

"Mmm?" he hums weakly as I gingerly release his cock and examine my seed slick hand.

"Are you alright?" I ask as his breathing begins becoming more even.

"Yeah" he says weakly. I look around for the washcloth from the night before but I can't find it. I grin as I see my smallclothes still tangled around my ankle from last night. I take my smallclothes and wipe away the bulk of Bran's seed from my hand, before wiping away the small splatter that landed on my belly. "It's a very good ritual" says Bran pleasure wracked voice.

"Definitely" I agree as I lean in and press a kiss to his lips. Bran's lips work softly against my own as I throw aside the seed-soiled smallclothes. I pull back and smile down at Bran. Even if the jokes and scolding's are the price we pay for evenings and morning filled with love making; it will be worth it.

"We ought to go face everyone" says Bran with a sigh.

"I suppose" I agree, rolling out of the bed and making my way to the wardrobe. I throw open the intricately carved wooden doors and seek out some clothes for the new day. "Do you regret that we didn't wait?" I ask Bran, handing him a bundle of clothes.

"No. I love you, and didn't want to wait" says Bran firmly as he sits up and separates his underclothes from his tunic and breeches.

"I couldn't wait either" I admit as I step into a clean set of smallclothes. "No sense waiting, after everything that happened". A silence fills the room as I stand half naked before Bran, each of us with a somber expression.

"Will you marry me?" asks Bran suddenly.

"Yes" I say easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Any ideas how to write myself out of this corner? No? Me either...


	8. Chapter 8

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 8: Sisterly Concern**

At the morning meal the castle occupants had their jokes and knowing whispers, but Bran and I simply carried on as though unaware as we entered the great hall for our morning meal. I watched King Jon as he sat opposite Bran eating his meal, torn between trying not to acknowledge the latest castle gossip and the urge to lean over and give Bran a brotherly congratulation. How strange men can be.

Lady Sansa sat on the end of the high table eating a bowl of fruits with a quiet grace, which somehow left me feeling uncomfortable. I caught her glancing at me and Bran subtly, but each time her eyes would return sombrely to her food. Perhaps my initial suspicions were wrong, perhaps she disapproves of Bran and I being together.

I try to maintain my air of indifference whilst underneath I am a simmering pot of embarrassment. Embarrassment, not shame; a key distinction I must remember. I prod gently at my plate of cold meat and carry on eating as Bran sits next to me rigid as a stone. Without thinking I run my hand along his thigh under the table, hoping to comfort him. His shy smile warms my heart, reminding me I'm not alone in my discomfort under everyone amused and watchful gaze.

Eventually Bran turns makes quiet conversation with King Jon while I listen absently. Really my mind is on Lady Sansa; my future good-sister. I still feel warmth filling my chest from the thought of Bran asking for us to marry. As if there were any chance I would deny him. If I'm being honest with myself marriage means nothing to me after making love last night.

After being north of the Wall with Bran, losing Jojen and all the unpleasantness that followed, marriage seems unnecessary. It almost feels like we're already married in a strange way. It feels like marriage is just giving ceremony to what already exists between us.

Bran's hand brushes against mine as he reaches for the pitcher of water. I smile as he pours me a cup without thought and carries on with his talk with Jon. We really haven't changed since we became betrothed. Though I suppose Bran will need to ask his brother permission, as King and Lord of Winterfell he will have final say. Watching the way the King's eyes dart back and forth between Bran and me, I don't feel concerned.

But I am worried for my parents. Father always told me the ravens never find Greywater Watch. Perhaps I should send a messenger, but winter is coming and the snows are getting deep and treacherous. Father would forgive me; he always doted on me and forgave any transgression. But mother. Mother is too much the Lady of the Greywater. She'd want to be here to bear witness and fill my head with advice being a wife.

It would be too selfish to ask King Jon to send a messenger to travel the ever increasing treacherous journey to Greywater Watch. And Bran is not yet strong enough to walk the length of Winterfell, let alone travel to the Neck. Besides how could I send a message with news of betrothal, and news of my brothers passing? It would be heartless. Perhaps it would be better to wait until the snows settle before sending word. Mother will have to forgive me.

I pluck at the last of my food as Jon suggests to Bran they should go bathe. I help Bran out of his seat, but the King quickly moves around the table to take the weight. Bran gives me a soft smile and tells me he'll be finished soon. Bran and Jon make their way across the hall and through the doors and out of sight. I suppose Jon has some brotherly talk in mind for Bran. Bran seems unperturbed, so I suppose I shouldn't be worried.

The hall is almost empty now, I notice with surprise. I push aside my plate as I try to think of what to do to occupy my morning. Perhaps I'll go for wandering around the castle, and learn my way more thoroughly. As Bran's wife, I ought to know my way around the castle better. I turn and begin making my way from the hall, but behind me I hear a clatter.

"Meera!" calls Lady Sansa behind me. I turn and see her hurrying from her seat towards me, unconcerned with the fork that has fallen to the floor. "Wait a moment please" she says slightly breathlessly as she steps close.

"Yes Lady Sansa?" I say masking my unease with formality.

"Just Sansa, please" she offers, reminding me I need not be formal. "Can we speak?"

"Of course" I say, feeling a swelling discomfort deep within. Sansa gestures towards one of the halls side doors and the pair of us leave the hall. We walk in silence until we come to a set of wooden doors I am unfamiliar with. I watch as Sansa takes out a key and unlocks the door, before gesturing for me to enter.

I enter through the offered door and step into what I suppose is Lady Sansa's chambers. I take in the room; it's simple, like most of Winterfell. But the drapery and ornaments give the room a softness befitting of its owner.

"Through here" says Sansa, gesturing to the doorway on the far side of the room. I step through the doorway into a sitting room where I watch uncomfortably as Sansa takes a seat. Feeling out of place I slowly sit myself down opposite Sansa as she smooths out her dress.

"Sansa..." I say, somewhat helplessly.

"So you and Bran had sex?" asks Sansa bluntly breaking the tension.

"Yes" I answer, nodding. I tense up waiting for the recriminations to come.

"And... it was mutual?" Sansa asks with an unreadable expression.

"Wha— of course it was mutual!" I say feeling boiling anger in my chest.

"Okay. Good" says Sansa quietly, nodding almost to herself. A tense silence fills the room as I feel a simmering displeasure at Sansa's insinuation. How could she suggest that about her own brother?

"I love Bran" I say barely concealing my bitterness. "More than anyone has the right to question".

"Forgive me Meera" whispers Sansa, her eyes downcast. "I did not mean... I didn't..." she trails off as she lets out a shuddering sigh. "Will you marry?" she asks eventually. I let her question sit for a moment, deciding whether I ought to tell her.

"He asked me this morning" I tell her.

"Did you accept?" asks Sansa looking at me with a smile.

"Does it matter?" I argue, still feeling the sting from her veiled accusation towards my Prince.

"No, not really" says Sansa with a distant gaze. "I suppose that marriage isn't the same measurement of love that I once thought it was". I nod dumbly at her words as my mind fills with the hushed whispers of her horrid marriages. Perhaps that explains why she asked if me and Bran's love making was mutual.

"I will marry Bran" I say feeling slightly foolish for my anger, "if King Jon agrees".

"Oh, he will" says Sansa with a dismissive wave as the atmosphere in the room lifts noticeably. "He hasn't the heart to deny his little brother". I smile at her words as she meets my gaze. "Forgive me for what I implied. I wasn't thinking" says Sansa quietly.

"You know Bran would never..." I say trailing off, unable to even say the word.

"I know. He's got too much of our father in him" says Sansa wistfully.

"My father told me Ned Stark was the most honourable man he had ever known" I tell her kindly. "I think similarly of Bran".

"You truly love him?" she asks with a look of wonderment.

"Yes" I answer simply.

"I'm glad" says Sansa with a kind smile. Soon we fill the room with the sound of our chatter as we slowly become more comfortable holding a conversation. Eventually the sun gets higher in the sky and morning passes. Feeling the urge to see my Prince, I decide to go find Bran. I leave Sansa with a polite goodbye and go in search of my husband to be. I ask a passing serving girl where I can find Bran and she tells me he's in our chambers. Feeling the desire to be near Bran I step quickly up the stairs to our room.

"Meera!" says Bran, startled as I practically hurl myself into our room. "Is everything alright?" he asks.

"Yes my Prince" I say smiling as I cross the room to where Bran's sitting in his comfortable armchair by the fire. "I just wanted to see you" I explain.

"Oh. We've only be parted for the morning" he says with a grin as I sit myself down on his lap.

"And yet I still missed you" I say as if it were perfectly normal. "How was your bath?" I ask, my mind conjuring lusty thoughts of Bran naked and covered in beads of water.

"Informative" says Bran cryptically. "And you? How was your morning?" he asks as his arms snake around my middle, pulling me closer.

"Me and your sister spent some time talking" I say, feeling no need to elaborate on the particulars.

"About?" asks Bran quietly as he nuzzles his face into my neck. I resist the urge to let out a contented sigh as he presses a wet distracting kiss to my neck.

"Womanly matters" I say with a teasing smile. I feel Bran's hands pull me even closer as he rests his forehead on my shoulder.

"You still want to marry me?" he asks quietly, barely audible over the sound of the newly lit fire.

"Yes" I whisper as I bring my hand up to stroke through my lover's still damp hair.

"I love you" says Bran, sounding slightly relived.

"Love you too" I say, cupping my hand under his jaw and leaning his head upwards. Without the need for more words I lean in and press a hot loving kiss to Bran's soft lips. Bran's hand comes up and brushes my hair over my ear before curling his fingers around the nape of my neck. He leans his in as our lips start moving in a deeper insistent pace.

Our kissing noises echoes off the stone walls, filling me with a satisfied glee. Bran's other hand slips upwards and gropes at my breast. My undershirt grazes roughly against my nipples, filling me with wanton desire. I feel our mixed drool smearing our chins as we begin roughly trading kisses. I run my hand along my lovers shoulder and down his firm chest before halting over his belly.

Hesitating for a moment, I decide to continue moving my hand downwards and grope at Bran's partly engorged cock through his breeches. A satisfied smile crosses my face as Bran breaks our kiss and gives a nice deep groan of pleasure.

"Wait Meera" says Bran, reaching down to halt my hand before it can even begin. "There's something I want to do for you first" he says with a glint in his eye as his lips curl upwards into a smirk. My eyes trace over Bran's well-kissed lips and the smear of our mixed drool over his chin and mouth.

"What sort of something?" I ask lightly as I feel my heart speed up.

"Do you trust me?" whispers Bran into my ear, sending a jolt of longing to my core. I feel myself slowly ruining another pair of my smallclothes as my womanhood dampens.

"Completely" I say firmly as my mind fills with curiosity at what Bran has in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: For a bit of clarification: all Sansa overhead was that 'Bran was on top of Meera in their bed'.


	9. Chapter 9

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 9: Brotherly Knowledge**

A giggle rips from my throat as I drop back against the bed, pulling my arms free as Bran tugs off my tunic and undershirt. I smile up at my husband to be as he drops my tunic and undershirt over the side of the bed. I shuffle up the bed and rest against the pillows as Bran kneels at the end of the bed. My heart races as I watch my lover prowl closer to me. The way he moves reminds me oddly of Summer out on a hunt.

I feel a thrill rock through my core as Bran crawls over me and presses his lips hungrily to my own. A rumbling groan rolls through my chest as Bran peppers kisses across my face. I lean back into the pillows as Bran's fingers trail up my sides before groping my breast. I feel his tongue swipe across my lower lip and without thought I part my lips.

Bran's warm seeking tongue prods past my lips and traces along my front teeth. No longer wanting to be passive I snake my arms around Bran's middle and grip tight against his arse. I part my thighs letting Bran's clothed belly nestle close to my womanly mound as we continue kissing. I tug at Bran's arse, grinding his belly over my cunt and drawing a muffled sigh from my occupied lips.

"Mmm" I hum relaxed as Bran breaks the kiss. I peek open an eye and see my future husband staring down at me with an intense mix of devoted love and burning hunger. I wonder which emotion will win out. Perhaps he'll act tender and sweet, or maybe he'll pounce on me like the dire-wolf he is imitating. I take no issue with either option playing out.

"So pretty" mumbles Bran as he leans in and nuzzles his face against my neck. I feel the telltale tickling scratch of Bran's youthful beard, reminding me I need to shave him.

"If we keep up like this, I doubt we'll ever leave this bed" I whisper teasingly into Bran's ear as he takes in deep inhale of my scent.

"I could live with that" mutters Bran before pressing a wet kiss to my bare shoulder. "Making love... in the morning..." he whispers as he presses a trail of kisses lower down my shoulder, "...and at noon". Bran slides lower down my body pressing a sloppy wet kiss to my breastbone. "And in the evenings too" he finishes as he turns his head and suckles a nipple into his mouth.

I gasp as Bran's tongue swirls around my hardened nipple, sending a ripple down to my core. My head fills with images of the pair of us making love all day, each day for as long as we live. The idea, foolish though it is, makes me feel a hopefulness I once thought lost. A satisfied smile teases at my lips as Bran turns to my neglected breast and laps his tongue over my other nipple.

It seems he's keeping his wolf-like tendencies going as he laps and laves his tongue in unknowable patterns over my nipple. The now abandoned spit-slick nipple chills in the open air, but it bothers me little as Bran slides further down my body, laving licks and pressing kisses as he goes. A squeal of surprise tears out of me as Bran's tongue dives into my bellybutton, leaving me shaken and giddy.

I have no clue as to what has gotten into my sweet Prince, but I feel no need to object as he leans further down and bites softly into my hipbone. Perhaps the way Bran made love last night was just from shyness. Perhaps this licking, kissing, biting and teasing Bran is the man I'm going to spend my morning, noon and nights fucking senseless. A thrill of need jolts through me, and my I feel my folds become slick with want at the very idea.

My mind fills with thoughts of Bran hovering over me, kissing me with a wild passion as our hips buck and thrash in tandem as we fuck ourselves to oblivion. I grab an unused pillow and pile it up behind my head, making it easier for me to look down at Bran as he presses teasing kisses along the waistband of my breeches. I stare down at him with a hungry needy look, but he ignores me and continues kissing his way over to my other hipbone.

I wonder which Bran I will enjoy more; the untamed dire-wolf or the tender lover. Maybe he'll be both in equal measure, I think hopefully. I gasp as Bran nips his teeth against my other hipbone before looking up at me with a darkened expression.

"Do you still trust me?" asks Bran looking up at me with a loving grin.

"Yes" I breathe, nodding weakly. I take in a deep breath and hold it as Bran's shifts down, his fingers tugging at the laces to my breeches. I bite my lip to ease the tension as my mind fills with possibilities of what Bran is going to do. Despite my mother's thorough tutoring, I know very little of bedroom tricks.

The laces pull free and I Bran eagerly tugs my breeches and smallclothes down my thighs. The chill of the air against my damp folds sends a shiver up my spine. But with a single glance, Bran's hot gaze reheats my nether-lips as he eases my breeches down past my knees before finally removing them altogether. It hasn't yet been a day since we first made love, and I already feel like a wife experienced in the bedroom arts. I splay my thighs wide, affording Bran a view of my folds. A pleased grin sweeps over my face as Bran chokes for a moment at the sight of my dripping womanhood.

"Love you" declares Bran, before dropping down and nuzzling his nose against the small thatch of curls between my legs. A giggle bubbles out of my mouth as I watch entranced as Bran snuffles and sniffs between my legs. I wonder how much of Bran's loyal dire-wolf still resides within him. I let out a yelp as Bran eases his chin forward and drags his tongue shamelessly along my folds.

"Bran!" I cry out as my hips jerk away in shock. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Something you'll enjoy" he answers with a soft look. "I promise". Bran's hands slowly begin rubbing soothing circles over my hips as I bite down on my lips nervously. I suppose I overestimated how confident I was at love making. A gasp rips from my mouth as Bran's hot breath rolls over my womanhood.

"Okay" I say, nodding uncertainly. I trust Bran unquestioningly, but I still feel raw. I guess I have a lot left to learn when it comes to Bran and me in the bedroom. Bran gives me a heart-warming smile before leaning down and pressing a feather-light kiss to my nub of pleasure. "Uhhng" I groan as I bite down on my lip once more. The sensation shocks me. I part my thighs wider, wordlessly encouraging my lover.

I feel Bran's hot breath against my cunt once more as his tongue peeks out and prods against my ever-slickening folds. I moan wantonly, feeling unable to restrain myself as bursts of pleasure fill my chest. Without any warning Bran's face buries itself between my legs, his mouth kissing and suckling my cunt seemingly at random.

"Braaaaaan" I moan, arching my hips up into his mouth. I reach down and take Bran's hands from my hips and interlace our fingers. I grip the fingers tight as I rock my hips up into Bran's seeking tongue and teasing lips. The ripples of pleasure have long since turned to deep sloshing waves. I can't think. I can feel myself speaking, but I can't focus on my own words.

A loud cry echoes through our bedroom as Bran's tongue buries itself deep into my womanly channel. More, I think repeatedly as my grip on Bran's hands begins to ache. I thrash my hips side to side, and up and down trying to coax my sweet Prince's tongue into the right spot. As if our minds have become one, Bran's lips seal themselves around my sensitive nub and he suckles it, making me cry out as I come ever closer to my peak of bliss.

"Please please please!" I beg ceaselessly as Bran's tongue flicks over my nub, sending a jolt through me. My back begins to arch of the bed, and Bran's lips remain sealed around my nub as he suckles and licks me towards a previously inconceivable climax. I'm sure the castle occupants can hear us, but damn each and every one of them. They are meaningless to me. All that matters right now is my Prince who is so eagerly pleasuring me.

I look down at Bran's head buried between my legs, and the sight alone makes me feverish. Bran's eyes look upwards to meet with mine as he continues suckling and teasing. I can almost hear his voice in my head telling me to let go. I nod frantically to Bran as my toes curl painfully and my breaking point rapidly approaches. In the depths of his eyes, behind the hunger and lust I see the intense look of love he often gives me.

Throwing my head back, I cry out one final time as I fall over the peak and into my climax. My hips lift clean off the bed, taking Bran with it. Bran's fingers feel close to breaking beneath my grip and my toes curl beyond pain. My throat feels raw as I draw in deep lungfuls of air as my intensely blissful pleasure washes over me. Distantly I become aware that my thighs have pressed against Bran's cheeks, but I've no ability to stop them.

Bran's lips tenderly pry from my cunt with an indecent pop as I look down into his warm brown eyes. Slowly I release Bran's hands, but that is all the control I can muster. My body shakes and jolts with wracks of pleasure as Bran strokes soothingly up and down the inside of my thighs. His lips are damp and swollen, and I feel a deep womanly pride. It's my slickness that coats his face; it's my womanhood where he buried his lips. I smile weakly down at Bran as my body goes limp and my head drops back to the pillows.

"Meera?" whispers Bran from what sounds like another room. I feel Bran shuffle up the bed and lay on his side next to me. His hand rubs soothing circles over my belly as my thigh twitches one final time. The tingling heat between my legs cools slowly as the waves of my climax slowly ebb. "Meera?" asks Bran again. I turn to him with a lazy smile.

"Yeah" I answer dazed.

"You came?" he tells me with an almost prideful look that sits well upon his handsome face.

"I came" I agree, nodding weakly.

"You were loud" he whispers as he leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. As his cheek brushes against mine I catch a strange scent. That must be my slickness on his lips. Once more I feel prideful at the fact my lover will smell like me.

"Couldn't help it" I explain as I roll onto my side. "It felt so good" I admit feeling slightly ashamed. Bran's arms wrap over my hips and he pulls me against his still clothed chest. My body curls against his with familiarity as I feel the last of the warmth from my climax echo through me.

"I'm glad" whispers Bran into my ear as we snuggle closer into each other's arms. The room fills with silence as we lay wrapped up in each other. Distantly I can hear the fire crackling gently. My body relaxes and my heartbeat slows to a steady thrum as we cuddle together.

"Bran?" I ask pulling back slightly to look my Prince in the eye.

"Yeah?" he replies with a hushed voice.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" I ask curiously. The memory of Bran's face buried between my thighs fills me with warmth as I wonder where my shy husband to be learned such a feat.

"Well..." says Bran hesitating, "...I asked my brother earlier. And he explained something I could try".

"Oh" I say as my face flushes red at the thought of King Jon knowing of me and Bran's bedroom activities.

"It wasn't a pleasant discussion" mutters Bran bitterly. "But I am glad I asked".

"Me too" I agree with a smirk as I lean in and press a kiss to Bran's still swollen lips. As my lips moves over his I notice an unusual tart taste and I suddenly remember where his lips had been not moments ago. I break the kiss and let my eyes roam over his lips. "You taste of me" I say, giggling slightly. Bran chuckles lightly as he rests his forehead against mine.

"I like your taste" he confesses quietly.

"Really?" I ask pulling back in surprise.

"Mhm" he hums in affirmation. I feel an odd wave of happiness rock through me at his confession. Is it strange to want my lover to find even my taste desirable? Perhaps when it comes to Bran I am simply greedy. Bran lets out a content sigh as his hand comes up to let his fingers trace along my cheek. "I also spoke to Jon about us getting married" he says quietly.

"And?" I ask, suddenly feeling nervous.

"He said we're Northerners and we need not follow Southron traditions any longer" he explains.

"So what will we do?" I ask trying to understand my lover's words.

"We marry if we want to marry. Just us, together" he says with a wide grin.

"So then... when shall we marry?" I say now wearing a matching grin.

"Jon plans to head north tomorrow" explains Bran. "If you don't mind I'd like to wait until he returns".

"How long?" I ask eagerly.

"Several days, not long" he reassures me. "I thought perhaps we could wed in the Godswood, beneath the weirwood" he suggests.

"With no ceremony? No bedding?" I ask remembering my mother's lessons on weddings.

"Yeah..." confirms Bran as he presses a kiss to my temple, "...just us and few people to bear witness as we pledge ourselves to one another".

"Sounds perfect" I whisper as I bury my face against Bran's neck.

"I love you my beautiful crannog" says Bran softly, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

"Love you too Bran" I say, smiling with anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I have always wondered if Bran's extended warging into Summer had any effect on him.


	10. Chapter 10

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 10: Word From Afar**

It has been near a moon since King Jon left for the Wall, and each passing day makes me more desperate for his return. Despite this, none at Winterfell are worried for the King; a raven arrived yesterday to reassure us that Jon's work at the Wall was taking longer than planned. Bran has been carrying on as though he isn't anxious for the King's return, but I know him better. We both want to be wed soon.

Even though our wedding has been delayed, our bedroom activities have carried on undeterred. I'm sure in less unusual times I would be thought of as a loose woman, but it seems after everyone had their jokes people stopped paying us any mind. Though Bran and I have become more mindful of baring the door before we make love; I don't fancy anymore gossip about our bedroom prowess.

I glance over at Bran as we sit side by side under the weirwood tree in the Godswood. A smile comes to my face as I see some snowflakes have gotten into Bran's long hair. I reach out tenderly and brush aside the flakes as he sits motionless, as though asleep. Between us Bran's hand presses against the old sacred tree. I wish I could understand his greensight better. I wish I could help him.

A sharp bitterness fills me at my inadequacy. He is Bran Stark, but he is also the Three Eyed Raven. The best I can do is sit by his side, and keep him warm. I tamp down the bitter feelings as I curl closer to Bran and shake the blanket free of snow. Bran's steady breathing soothes me as I sit and wait for him to return to me. I hope he finishes soon, the snow is getting heavier, and the cold has become biting.

Along with more snow, the days are becoming mercilessly short. Yet even so, every so often Bran feels the need to spend time greenseeing. I wonder what he sees. I wonder what the castle occupants think Bran is doing out here?

"Meera? Meera?!" calls a voice dragging me from my thoughts. I look around and spot the red hair of Sansa Stark making its way through the clearing towards Bran and me.

"Over here Sansa!" I call out. I glance over to Bran and see he is still out.

"Meera, what are you still doing out here" chastises Sansa as she steps carefully though the snow towards us. "You'll both freeze to death if you don't get inside".

"We can't yet" I say evenly.

"More of your secrets?" asks Sansa with a weary smile.

"We'll be inside soon" I reassure my future good-sister. Sansa steps up in front of me and gives an accepting nod. Bran says it's better if we keep his greenseeing and his warging to himself. Perhaps he is right. Regardless, his sister isn't simple, she knows something is amiss.

"A messenger came" says Sansa as she looks around with a distant gaze.

"From King Jon?" I ask hopefully.

"No. From Greywater Watch" she answers with an uncomfortable expression.

"I... oh" I say unsure as I stare at Sansa in confusion. "What did they say?"

"They delivered a letter for you" she answers as she fumbles about pulling some folded papers from her robes. I shake off the blanket covering my arms and reach out eagerly for the letter. I turn the folded paper between my cold fingers and see the pale green wax seal on the front. No sigil or mark of any kind on the wax, just a circle splotch of green wax.

"Did the messenger say anything?" I ask looking up at Sansa.

"Just that the letter was from the Lord and Lady of Greywater Watch, and that the letter was for Lady Meera Reed" she recites calmly.

"I see" I say absently as I look down at the letter in my hands. My mind fills with questions. How do mother and father know that I'm at Winterfell? Do they want me to return to the Neck?

"Are you alright?" asks Sansa kindly.

"Yeah" I say slowly, sounding unconvinced. "I just... wasn't expecting this".

"I'll give you some privacy" says Sansa. I nod vaguely as she turns and carefully makes her way back to the castle. "And get inside soon! I've few enough family as it is" she calls out jokingly over her shoulder as she passes through the trees and out of sight. I snicker lightly as I think of all the time I spent north of the Wall, half frozen waiting on Bran to return to himself.

I glance over at Bran's still form as I turn the letter over and over in my hands. Perhaps I'll read it later. No, I suppose if it's bad news I may as well get it done with. I take in a deep breath of cold air and hold it while my fingers play with the green seal. I release my breath in a deep long sigh as I tear open the seal and unfold the letter. My mother's handwriting stares at me on the sheet of paper as I begin to read.

 

_Dearest Daughter. That I have to hear of your betrothal from a passing crannogman both saddens me and warms my heart. And that your husband to be is Bran Stark of all people! I hope this letter reaches you before you are wed, but either way, take these words as your mother and fathers wholehearted blessing._

_I take it from the lack of news of sweet Jojen that his greendream has come to pass and he is no longer of this world. He told your father the night before you both left the Greywater of his vision and that he was never to return. I had hoped he was mistaken, but it seems he was right. He always was._

_Your father has not stopped smiling since word reached us that you will be wed to a Stark. The idea of him and Ned Stark sharing a grandchild makes the old fool madly happy. I do hope the boy will be able to provide you children. I'm sure you will be a good mother._

_The Neck will soon freeze, and talk is that this is going to be the longest of winters. Both your father and I wish we were able to ride north and see you in Winterfell, but sadly we aren't as spry as we once were._

_There are countless other things I wish I could say in this letter. All the things a mother should say when her daughter is to be married. But I'm sure you will do well. And I could not be more proud and happy for you sweet daughter. To think, you once swore you'd never marry. I'm certain the young Stark must have had to be very convincing to make you break that vow._

_Stay safe, and be happy._

_Your loving mother._

 

I let out soft sob as I finish rereading the letter. They knew all this time? They knew when Jojen and me left that he'd never again return? I feel a heady mix of emotion all tearing me in different directions as my eyes become watery. I press the letter tightly to my chest and cover myself with the blanket once more. Taking in a deep breath of cold air to steady myself, I tuck my letter into my cloak pocket.

I lean closer to Bran as my mother's words flow through my mind unrestrained. She and father are happy that I'm to be married, I remind myself. A smile crosses my face as I imagine father irritating mother with his cheerfulness. I wonder if that's how Bran and I will be in years to come. I try to picture myself rolling my eyes at Bran's horrid jokes as we share a meal in the same way mother and father would. No, perhaps no jokes; Bran has the worst taste in jokes.

Next to me Bran lets out a slow rumbling groan as he shifts slightly. I turn to him and his eyes flutter open, halting my thoughts about the letter.

"Meera?" Bran asks, as if to check it's truly me.

"I'm here my Prince" I say leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cold cheek.

"Was I out for long?" he asks as he wriggles around stretching slightly.

"Less than last time" I say with a grin. "Less and less each time actually" I say as I remember the long days he would spend greenseeing.

"More to come back to now" he whispers, leaning in and kissing me. His lips feel like ice against my lips and I jerk back in surprise.

"Your lips are near frozen" I explain, smiling as Bran gives me a confused look.

"We best head in where it's warm then" suggests Bran, with an unconvincing expression of innocence. I nod in agreement and the pair of us awkwardly stand up. My legs feel like clay after sitting on the cold ground for so long. Bran smirks at me as he leans in and brushes some snowflakes from my hair. I smile at the gesture as it occurs to me how similar we can act sometimes.

Eventually we make our way through the snowy Godswood and into the castle. The warm castle air feels lovely against my skin as we begin ascend the stairways to our bedroom. As I look around the castle seems empty; I suppose everyone is in their rooms trying to stay warm.

I brace my arm around Bran's shoulders as we climb the stairs slowly. Lately Bran doesn't seem to need any help walking about, but I can't shake the habit of trying to assist him. Unexpectedly Bran pulls me closer against his side as we walk. His hand slides slowly over my arse as it moves to wrap around my hip. I glance sideways at Bran and see a poorly concealed smirk. Playing along with my husband to be, I lean further against his side, pushing my breast tauntingly against his chest.

We turn the final corner and come to our bedroom door. I reach out and open the door and part from Bran to step through. I glance around the darkened room. The window shutters are drawn, and the increasingly heavy snowfall is keeping out most of the light.

"I'll get the fire going" says Bran quietly as he steps past me towards the fireplace. The castle air is pleasant enough, but we really do need a fire going. While Bran goes about stacking firewood I remove my fur lined cloak and throw it over the back of the armchair to dry. I shake the snowflakes from my damp hair as I watch my lover work with the flint and tinder. A few moments later Bran stands up moves away from the now slowly burning fire. "Your lips are blue" whispers Bran as he steps up to me, his eyes examining me closely.

"Perhaps you could warm them for me?" I suggest, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"Be happy to" whispers Bran as he removes his damp cloak and drapes it over a low table. I step close to my Prince and snake my arms around his middle as his fingers brush through my hair. Bran eases his lips closer and I feel his hot breath roll excitingly over my lips and cheeks. Bran's lips almost touch to mine, but he pulls back slightly. Deciding I haven't the patience for his teasing I lean in and claim his lips.

Still numb from the cold, our lips work awkwardly against each other. His lips are still like ice, but his tongue is like fire as it prods against my lips. My lips part in familiarity as his tongue enters to meet and tease my own tongue. My teeth nip and play with his tongue as his hands begin stroking up and down my arms, warming me. Slowly Bran slides his tongue from my mouth and our lips part.

"Let's lie down and get warm" suggests Bran. I nod as I reluctantly part from my lover. I move over to the bed and quickly remove my boots before sliding under the thick blankets. I watch as shadows play over Bran's face as he sits and removes his boots too. He drops his boots over by the wardrobe as his hands begin working on the laces to his tunic. I grin widely as he drags his tunic and undershirt overhead and throws them aside.

"I like watching you undress" I say quietly as Bran walks over to the bed. My eyes rake over Bran's pale chest and down to the line of hair at his belly that leads downwards to his manhood.

"I prefer undressing you" whispers Bran huskily as he slides into bed next to me. I feel a lungful of air get dragged from me as Bran gives me a grin I've gotten to know well as of late; his teasing bedroom grin. A shiver rocks through me as Bran's fingers fumble numbly with my tunic laces. I shuffle about helping Bran as he tears off my tunic and undershirt, leaving my breasts exposed to the cool air. Bran throws the clothing across the room carelessly.

I resettle myself on the bed as Bran's arms curl around me as he huddle closer together. My breasts press flat against his chest as we snuggle. I feel Bran draw the blanket up and over us as we settle in to warm up.

"If it weren't so cold, I'd make love to you" says Bran against my hair.

"It'll warm up soon" I say suggestively as I wriggle myself against Bran. I feel his fingers rake up and down my bare back as I tighten my grip on his shoulders. Bran nods as we pull each other tighter into our embrace. I press a soft kiss over my Prince's heart as I feel warmth slowly returning to my limbs. "How was your greendream?" I ask quietly.

"Jon will return soon. Maybe tomorrow, or the next day" mutters Bran as he nuzzles his cheek into my hair.

"Thank the gods" I say sighing. I don't think I could deal with the waiting much longer.

"That's not all" says Bran quietly.

"What else?" I ask looking up at him, suddenly concerned.

"There's war in the south, large hosts of men forming. Not sure why yet" he answers.

"Do you think they're coming north?" I ask.

"I don't know yet. Maybe" he replies.

"Gods" I say softly as my mind fills with worries. With King Jon focusing on the Wall and the White Walkers, what if an army comes from the south?

"I'll tell Jon as soon as he returns" says Bran, as if reading my mind. "It could be nothing. It could be events that have long since happened... it's hard to tell" he explains looking unsure.

"But you think it's happening right now?" I ask.

"I think so" he says pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Okay my love" I say, not feeling reassured.

"Soon Jon will be here and we'll be wed" says Bran softly.

"Finally" I say with a weak chuckle. I nuzzle my cheek against Bran's chest. "I love you Bran".

"Love you too" he whispers. Despite everything his three simple words make me feel better about his visions from the south. I tamp down the worries of what hardships we may yet face after we are married and try to enjoy being held in my lover's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This was a difficult chapter. Sorry it took so long.


	11. Chapter 11

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 11: The King's Council**

Immediately after King Jon arrived he called a meeting in his solar. Bran and I walk into the already filled solar slightly late. As we come in the faces of Ser Davos Seaworth, and Tormund the Wildling greet us, along with King Jon and Sansa. A blush rolls up my cheeks as I remember why Bran and I turned up late. I glance over at Bran as he sits down at the sturdy wooden table that dominates the room, looking as if he had not just been making love to me moments earlier.

I sit myself down next to Bran as I watch a smirk cross Lady Sansa's face. Of course she'd know what we were up to. I look away from Sansa, slightly too fast as Bran greets his brother. Despite being Bran's soon to be wife, I still feel out of place sometimes. I tried to convince Bran it was best if I didn't come to the King's meeting, but he wouldn't hear it. I explained that I felt out of place talking about matters of importance with the King. But Bran just shook off my questions and said he wanted me to come with him with one of his sincere smiles. How could I refuse after that?

As Bran shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, he clears his throat, drawing the attention of all in the room.

"I have news" says Bran firmly.

"Knew he'd get her seeded" mutters Tormund to Ser Davos as he nods between me and Bran.

"No" Bran says quickly with a grim look, "...bad news". I watch as Bran takes in a deep inhale before he begins to tell everyone what he told me he saw with his greensight. I listened closely as he told every one of the great armies he saw forming in the south and his uncertainty of their intent. After he finishes speaking the room fills with silence as everyone tries to comprehend what Bran has said.

"Bran, how could you possibly know all this?" asks Jon with a puzzled look.

"You have to trust me" answers Bran quietly. Across the table I see a strange look cross the Tormund's face as he stares intently at my lover.

"You heard anything about this?" asks Jon, looking at Ser Davos.

"Not a thing your Grace" answered Ser Davos, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "But I suppose if the Lannisters were planning to march an army north, we'd be the last to know".

"Bran are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream?" asks Sansa kindly.

"I know what I saw" says Bran firmly.

"Is this what you do when you sit under the weirwood?" asks Sansa looking curious.

"Yes" mutters Bran looking frustrated. "But it's not important, what is important is there is an army rallying in the south".

"Where was the army forming?" asks Ser Davos with an interested look.

"I don't know exactly. There was a river and red sand" answers Bran, closing his eyes to recall.

"Sounds like Dorne. Did you see a castle?" asks Ser Davos.

"I don't think so" mutters Bran.

"How about banners? Did you see any banners?" asks Jon urging his brother. I watch as Bran closes his eyes. His brow creases as he thinks, trying to remember I suppose. Under the table I slide my hand into his and we lace our fingers together. I give Bran's hand a comforting squeeze.

"The Martells..." says Bran slowly, "...and the Tyrells. I saw their banners".

"Who are these people Snow?" asks Tormund looking to King Jon.

"Great Southron Houses" says Jon looking pensive.

"Perhaps they are coming north" suggests Sansa, "the Tyrells are in with the Lannisters".

"I doubt it, the Martells have never struck me as fond of the Lannisters" mutters Ser Davos wryly. The solar fills with silence as each of us tries to puzzle out the mystery.

"Sansa..." says Jon breaking the silence, "...could you sent a raven to Littlefinger in the Vale?"

"Why? We couldn't trust anything he says anyway" asks Sansa dismissively.

"I know, but he doesn't know anything about what Bran knows" explains the King, nodding to his younger brother.

"Good way to find out if he's on our side too" chips in Ser Davos.

"Littlefinger? Didn't you say he married you to Ramsay Bolton?" I ask looking at Sansa in confusion, "How can you trust him?"

"We don't" says Jon and Sansa in unison. The pair trade a grin as Ser Davos gives a light chuckle. Silence fills the room once more as we all look to Sansa while she mulls the idea over in her head.

"I'll send him a raven asking for news from the south" concedes Sansa eventually. "But I promise you, whatever he sends back, will only be a half-truth" she continues looking Jon in the eye.

"Fair enough" says Jon nodding.

"If that's settled for now, then how was the Wall?" asks Sansa, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Undermanned, falling apart. The usual really" answers Jon with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Food was good though" adds Tormund.

"Any news of the White Walkers?" I ask hesitantly.

"No" says Jon shaking his head. "No sightings at all".

"The Night King" mutters Bran scratching at his forearm where the pink ice-brand sits. "He's probably still trying to figure out how to get past the enchantments on the Wall".

"Are you sure that's what Uncle Benjen said? That the White Walkers can't cross the wall?" asks Jon.

"That's what he said" answers Bran looking to me. I nod in agreement as I recall the words of the elder Stark after he rescued us.

"What if they find a way past the Wall?" asks Sansa quietly to Jon.

"Then were fucked" answers Tormund with a grin.

"The Wall will hold" I say trying to reassure my future good-sister.

"And if it doesn't?" she asks.

"Then all the Dragonglass and Valerian steel in the world won't stop them" mutters Jon, his eyes going distant.

"But they can be killed, right?" asks Sansa.

"Yes" I answer in unison with Jon as I remember felling one White Walker with a Dragonglass arrow when they entered the Three Eyed Ravens cave. The room goes silent and I shift uncomfortably in my seat as all eyes but Bran's rest upon me. "What?"

"You killed a White Walker?" asks Jon.

"I got lucky" I say dismissively as I feel Bran's hand squeeze mine comfortingly.

"Sam's Dragonglass" murmurs Jon in realization. I nod as everyone else at the table looks on in confusion. Eventually the meeting resumes and King Jon and Ser Davos go about planning to make the Northern Houses prepared for war, regardless of which direction it comes for us.

"What about grain for the winter?" asks Jon as he pours another cup of ale for himself.

"The Dreadfort has a large supply, I'm sure the Boltons won't mind" suggests Ser Davos with a grin.

"That works" agrees Jon nodding, "send some men to go collect".

"First thing your Grace" nods Ser Davos. Beneath the table I feel Bran's hand detangle itself from my grasp and slip onto my thigh, giving me a gentle squeeze. I feel my face blushing slightly as I glance over at Bran who sits there with a passive mask of innocence. Thankfully everyone else is too busy talking about the realm to notice Bran's hand teasing and taunting me as it edges closer to my womanhood.

I snap my thighs closed over his fingers, hoping to trap him and stop any further teasing. But he just wiggles his fingers and massages my thigh with his free thumb. I try to pay attention as the others discuss which Bannermen would be best alert to make ready for war, but Bran's hand keeps distracting me.

"What do you think Bran?" asks Jon turning to his brother.

"Well, from what you told me, Smalljon's sisters had no part in his betrayal" says Bran with a thoughtful frown. "The Umber's have always been loyal before. I think perhaps they can be trusted" he answers eventually. Beneath the table Bran's hand pinches at my thigh. I bite my tongue to stop myself from making a noise.

"I gutted their brother, they may not be so happy with me" says Tormund.

"He fought with the Boltons against their wishes... I think they'd be more likely to toast you" says Sansa with a poorly concealed grin.

"Why would I want them to toast me?" deadpans Tormund.

"She means they'd celebrate with you" says Jon rolling his eyes.

"Oh. I don't want that either" says Tormund, seemingly missing the point. Beneath the table Bran wiggles his hand free and slides it closer to the top of my thigh. I glare sideways at Bran as he continues to look completely interested in the discussion. His hand stops just before reaching my womanhood and his thumb begins rubbing slow circles into my thigh.

"Well, it's getting late" says Sansa looking weary of the discussion.

"Right" agrees Jon, as if he only just noticed how late it is. I breathe a sigh of relief as Bran's hand slips from my thigh and he stands up along with his brother. Slowly everyone makes their goodbyes and one by one they leave the solar, leaving Bran and I alone.

"That was cruel" I say trying to chastise him, but unable to stop myself smiling.

"You're very distracting" mutters Bran, pulling me into his arms. I lean into his embrace and feel him drop a kiss on my forehead.

"You know I'm going to get you back for that" I tell him softly.

"I look forward to it" he replies pulling back to look me in the eye. I lean up on my tiptoes and move in to press a kiss to his lips. His lips respond quickly and we eagerly trade soft kisses in the empty solar. Despite making love earlier, it warms me that we're still happy to kiss and hold one another. Slowly Bran pulls back and we stand there staring at each other.

"We'll be married tomorrow" says Bran with a soft loving gaze.

"Yeah" I say feeling a jolt of joy at the thought. "Then you'll never be rid of me" I say half-joking, half searching for sweet words.

"That's what I was hoping for" says Bran, delivering the sweet words I needed. He leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek, before moving to kiss my earlobe. "Shall we go to bed?" he whispers softly into my ear. I nod eagerly with a happy grin as I imagine my soon to be husband unclothed. Together we leave the solar and head down the hallway towards our bedroom. As we turn the corner Tormund the Wildling steps out in front of us, looking at Bran.

"I know what you are boy" growls Tormund with a smug grin. The tension around us rises as I slowly move my hand to the old worn knife I keep on my belt.

"And what is that?" asks Bran calmly.

"You're a warg boy" answers Tormund with a grin. I grip the knife handle tight in my hand as I feel my heart speed up. My blood pounds in my ears as I feel Bran's body tense at my side.

"No he's not" I deny, glaring up at the tall Wilding.

"Yes he is" says Tormund, with an almost teasing grin. "Tell me boy, Snow said you was a cripple and you went north of the Wall. That the truth?" he asks.

"It's true" says Bran firmly.

"He said you went past the Fist of the First Men, all the way out to the ice plains... that true too?" asks Tormund.

"We did" says Bran looking at me for a moment.

"Seems all you Starks have strangeness in your blood" chuckles Tormund. "You went all that way with no legs? You're a madman Bran Stark... you'd live well among the Free Folk". I let out a breath as the tension leaves the air between Bran and huge Wilding.

"He's not mad" I say, feeling the need to defend my Prince.

"And this one defends you as jealously as any spear-wife..." he says nodding to me, "maybe you are of Free Folk blood" he finishes, laughing heartily as he steps around us and walks off around the corner. "Don't worry Stark, I'll not tell your secret" he calls out. His laughter carries on as he moves off down the hallway and out of earshot. I turn to Bran and we exchange baffled looks.

Bran shrugs his shoulders and he turns to head back to our bedroom. I feel my heartbeat slowing down to normal pace as I step up besides Bran and we begin climbing the stairs to our room. Eventually we come to our bedroom door and enter the familiar room. I turn to bar the door while Bran goes to add wood to the fire. I turn on the spot and look at my Prince, my soon to be husband.

"So... your last night as an unmarried man. What shall you do?" I ask in what I hope is a sultry voice.

"I have ideas" says Bran turning from the fireplace and walking towards me.

"Will I like these ideas?" I ask stepping towards him. We meet in the middle of the room. His arms wrap around my shoulders as my hands snake around his middle.

"Of course. Wouldn't want my future wife to condemned to marriage without having some fun first" he says in a voice that sends warmth surging through me.

"Hardly condemned to marriage" I whisper as I lean in and kiss him. Our lips work eagerly against each other as Bran's hands slip down and grope my arse. He pulls me tighter against his body as I nip my teeth over his bottom lip. As we kiss, my mind fills with lusty thoughts of what we will tonight. I hope this part of us never changes, I think idly as Bran begins walking me back towards the bed. I hope we'll always be able to find solace and happiness making love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Damn, look at all that vague plot. Remind me never again to write anything with more than three characters interacting. If anyone picks up on a canon misstep, let me know. I'm sure there is one in there somewhere.  
> -Already caught a bit of a canon flaw, got the books and the show mixed up... fixed now. My bad.


	12. Chapter 12

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 12: Beware the Patient Crannog**

Bran edges me back closer to the bed, his lips still locked passionately with mine. His hands pull hard at my tunic laces, pulling them free. Our lips part for the briefest of moments for him to tear my tunic and undershirt off of me, dropping them carelessly to the floor. Bran's hands press against my belly, before dragging upwards and groping my tits roughly. I moan softly, only to be silenced by Bran's hot mouth as he draws me into another heated kiss.

I feel the bed against the back of my legs, but Bran does not push me back as he has done countless times now. Instead one of his hands released my tit and slides down to tug at the laces on my breeches. I hear the laces tear, and I bite back some chastisement as Bran's hand delves straight down into my smallclothes.

"Gods, you're already wet" he groans as his fingers slide up my nether-lips, drawing a low gasp from me.

"Well, someone was tormenting me beneath the table at the King's council meeting" I say trying to sound scolding but failing miserably.

"What wicked man would dare do such a thing" whispers Bran against my ear as his finger curves up and slips easily past my wet folds and into my womanly channel.

"Don't worr— " I begin, a soft gasp of pleasure halting my voice. "...worry. I have already sworn vengeance upon him". My fingers twist into Bran's tunic as I try to keep myself upstanding. Bran slips in another finger to join the one already teasing and probing at my sensitive core. His thumb brushes softly over the small nub of pleasure, dragging a low whimper from me.

"If you are sure my love" he says calmly, as if he wasn't presently fucking me with his fingers.

"I'm sure" I say between gasps. I bite down on my lip, the pain helping me regain my scattered wits. I slowly bring my hands up to Bran's tunic laces, and pull the knot free. I pull the hem of his tunic out from his breeches and slowly raise it upwards. Bran's fingers slips free of my womanhood, making me moan weakly. With his hands now free I drag Bran's tunic and undershirt up and over his head and throw it aside. I smile as seductively as I can at my lover as I ease down my breeches and smallclothes, letting them fall to the floor.

"Meera" gasps Bran weakly as he rakes his eyes up and down my now completely bared body. I love that he has that same reaction each time he sees me unclothed. Bran's eyes focus on the small bundle of curls between my thighs as I reach out and undo the laces to his breeches with only slightly more care than he took for mine.

Bran grins at me as he pushes his breeches down his thighs and lets them fall to the floor with mine. I resist the urge to giggle as Bran kicks aside his breeches with a flick of his foot, as he usually does. Now my turn to ogle, I drag my eyes down his pale chest to the light hairs on his belly. My eyes follow the trail of hair downwards to his engorged cock. Each time I see the throbbing red cockhead I feel a shiver roll up my spine, and this time is no exception. I feel perverse when I think it, but sometimes I imagine I could stare at Bran naked for days at a time. His cock throbs slightly as it curves upwards against his belly.

"Kiss me" I say to Bran lovingly, biting back a wicked evil smile. A soft smile crosses my lover's face as he steps closer and leans in to kiss me. His lips press softly against mine, in a tender loving kiss.

Moving fast and as agile as I can, I grab Bran's wrist and shoulder and spin him on the spot, flinging him past me towards the bed. I throw my foot out, tripping him as he passes me. Bran flops back against the mattress, looking bewildered up at me as I pounce forward and straddle his lap. I lean in and stare at my soon to be husband.

"Bran... of the House Stark... I declare this my vengeance" I say with a mixture of lust and forcefulness. I slide my hand down between our bodies and grasp Bran's cock firmly between my fingers. Bran begins to say something, but I pay no mind as I line up my wet and eager cunt over his cock and sink down onto it, silencing him. I resist the urge to moan as I stare down at my love. Failing to resist the same urge, he lets out a rumbling groan of satisfaction as his cock slides all the way inside me. The fullness and pressure of his cock makes my head swim as I smirk wickedly down at my love.

Grabbing both of Bran's hands by the wrists, I pin them against the pillows above his head as I lean over him. My nipples graze maddeningly against his chest as I hover over him. His breath comes in short pants as he looks up at me, in with what I can only describe as an awestruck expression. Deciding he has had plenty enough time to recover his lost bearings I roll my hips forwards against him. His cock drags out of my folds about halfway, before I throw my hips back as hard as I can muster, slamming his cock back where it truly belongs, making us both moan and grunt in pleasure.

"Now... for tormenting me beneath that table, you're going to appol—" I begin.

"I am endlessly sorry for tormenting you, don't stop" interrupts Bran quickly.

"You didn't even let me finish my demands before you broke?" I ask half-chuckling. I roll my hips again and I watch overjoyed as his eyes flutter slightly. An intense feeling of joy overwhelms me, at the pleasure I am causing my Prince. "Shouldn't a man hold out as long as possible?" I ask.

"I could never deny my crannog, why delay the inevitable" breathes Bran, smiling up at me. Once more I feel my head swim at the honesty in his words. Even like this, with me trying to tease and torment him he can still bring my heart to a halt.

I lean down further, pressing my breasts firmly against Bran's chest as I drop a soft kiss to his lips. His lips respond eagerly as I transfer my weight onto my forearms. I raise my hips up off up Bran's cock, before slamming it back down again, making us both cry out. Our kiss halts as we lose focus, and simply leave our mouths pressed together. I lift up my hips again, causing a rumbling groan to vibrate through Bran's chest.

My hips slam down once more, driving his cock deep into my cunt, forcing our lips apart as we call out in pleasure. Instead of halting my hips this time I bounce up off of Bran's lap, letting his cock drag from me, before once more driving him deep inside. After a moment, I find a fast rhythm, driving Bran's cock in and out of my sopping folds.

Bran's grunts fill the room as I see the muscles in his arms tense as he resists the urge to pull his hands free. I gasp and whine each time his cock slides past my most sensitive inner parts, before spearing me deep almost to the point of pain. The wet sound of his cock fucking in and out of me echoes off the stone walls, making me dizzy.

I see Bran mouthing words between grunts, but the blood rushing in my ears deafens me to them. Slowly Bran's hips begin rocking up off the mattress, driving his cock into me harder from below, but I can't begrudge him that when it feels so good. The familiar bubble of pleasure begins building behind my navel as his cock strikes against my depths in a frantic flurry.

Distantly I think that my thighs and arse are going to be bruised tomorrow, but instead of shame or concern all I feel is a perverse sense of pride. I look down into Bran's brown eyes and he stares back. His eyes are glazed over, but he continues to stare at me as I fuck myself down onto his cock so forcefully our sturdy bed squeaks and groans with the overuse.

I look down at Bran as my insides coil tight, and I feel myself approaching the end. I drive my hips onward, despite my aching muscles. I focus solely on the feel of his cockhead, as it spears me deep and slams hard against my centre. I feel it coming, my end. I press my sweat slicked forehead against Bran's as I brace for my finish. His cock drives deep into my cunt once more and I'm floating. My vision darkens as a desperate keening cry rips out of me. The bubble bursts and I'm thrown headfirst into my climax.

All control of my body is gone as I slump forwards against Bran. The waves of my bliss rock against me hard as I feel my thighs twitching weakly. Beneath me Bran continues to fuck himself upwards into my wet and welcoming cunt. Each continued thrust of his cock prolonging my bliss as I let out choked sobs and unintelligible words. The slide of his cock, pressing over my oversensitive inner walls sends me to madness as Bran seeks his release.

I have half a mind to slide off of him and finish him off with my hand, but I haven't the strength. For a moment my mind fills with curiosity if he'd enjoy me using my mouth on him as he has for me, but his cock quickly drives the thought from my mind.

"Fuck Meera" groans Bran loudly as his hips snap up, driving his cock deep into me. He lets out a guttural groan as I feel his cock throb hard as he spills his seed deep into my channel. Our hips sink back to the bed as his cock twitches and throbs through its spurts of seed. Bran's hot breath rolls over my neck as he groans in much needed release.

Finally the waves of my climax ebb and my thighs stops twitching. My head drops down next to Bran's as our cheeks rest side by side. Under me I feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes in rapidly. I begin to notice the sweat slicked over my back, all the way down to my arse. Slowly my fingers unwind from around Bran's wrists, releasing him. I give a deep groan of contentment as Bran's arms encircle me, his hands stroking up and down my sweaty spine.

Deep inside me, I feel Bran's hot seed finding its home within my body. Perhaps this will get me with child, I wonder; unable to bring forth the rational thought to examine that idea any further. Inside my channel Bran's cock softens easing up the pressure. Marshalling all my remaining strength I roll sideways off of Bran to lie next to him.

I glance sideways and see Bran, still taking in deep breaths; his chest and belly slicked with sweat. I weakly reach out my fingers next to me and grope around for Bran's hand. We lace our fingers together as we slowly regain our breath. I feel the sweat on my breasts and belly begins to chill against the air as I watch the fire cast shadows across the ceiling.

"Bran..." I say weakly.

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding equally exhausted.

"Promise me something" I ask looking over at him.

"Anything" he offers, looking back at me.

"Promise you'll make me have to take vengeance again... soon" I ask giving a weak smile. Bran chuckles softly as my breathing finally return to normal.

"I promise" he whispers looking at me with a loving gaze. I trace my eyes slowly over his sated expression, his sleepy eyes and his soft smile. I love it when my Prince looks well fucked. And I can only love it all the more when I know it was me that made him that way. "Anything for my beautiful crannog" he mutters sleepily, his eyes drooping.

I grin back as I slide my free hand down my body to my womanhood. I run my fingers gently over my still sensitized folds, searching for seed before bringing them up to my eye line and examining them closely. Very little of Bran's seed lingers on my fingers, I suppose most of it is deep within me; perhaps even making us a child, even as I lay here. I carelessly rub the seed off on my belly as I close my eyes and begin to imagine a small Stark child running around Winterfell, playing and laughing. I feel sleep fast approaching as my mind fills with an image of Bran holding a small babe, smiling up at me. Somewhere distantly I feel a blanket settle over me, warming me. I hope our child has Bran's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: With careful examination of both the text and subtext of this chapter, you will notice... there is absolutely nothing plot relevant here.


	13. Chapter 13

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 13: Together as One**

I quickly finish toweling myself off after my bath and begin to make myself ready for my wedding. My skin is scrubbed pink and I can see steam wafting off of my arms as I walk over to the paper wrapped parcel that Lady Sansa left on the table for me. I smile as pull the paper wrapping free and lift up bundle of cloth. It's a tunic; brown with black bordering. I hold the tunic up to the firelight and I see Sansa has carefully embroidered a Direwolf on the belly, wrapping around the side.

Joy fills me as I look at the elegantly embroidered Direwolf. It seems my future good-sister knows I'm not one to wear dresses. I've never liked wearing dresses; always so constricting. I glance out the window and see the sun has risen higher in the sky and snow is starting to fall lightly. Deciding I need to hurry up, I grab my clothes and quickly get dressed. On the way out the door I grab my cloak and wrap it around my shoulders. I leave the bathing room and head down to the Godswood. As I cross the great hall I see Lady Sansa waiting for me.

"Meera" she says looking up at me expectantly, "the others are already out in the Godswood" she continues, hurrying to my side.

"Okay" I say, letting Sansa grab my hand to lead me out through the large double doors. "Thank you for the tunic" I say softly as I run my free hand over the embroidered Direwolf.

"You're family" she says simply as we pass through the doors and into the chilly air outside. "And I couldn't find anyone who knew the sigil of House Reed" she admits red-faced.

"It's fine, I like it how it is" I say. We quickly hurries across the training yard, as we do I see smiles and looks of interest in the people's faces as we pass them. Perhaps they care more about their Prince's wedding than either Bran or I had considered.

"The Direwolf looks good on you" whispers Sansa looking at my tunic. "I'm glad it came out well". We pass through the archway into the Godswood a wave of calmness washes over me as we step over the snowy ground towards the clearing where the heart tree stands. As we pass between two trees, a small crowd of people come into sight. Among the small crowd I see King Jon as he holds a brotherly hand on Bran's shoulder.

As my eyes pass over Bran, everyone else fades into the background. He's wearing a matching brown tunic with leather padding around the sides and a black and grey cloak draped over his shoulders. As I step closer I see a Direwolf similar to mine embroidered across the chest of his tunic. My eyes move upwards and they meet with his warm brown eyes. I feel my foot slip slightly on the snowy ground, but I keep walking, as if drawn in by his eyes.

A wide smile crosses Bran's face as he looks at me. I see him take in a deep breath as I step up in front of him. Distantly I feel Sansa's hand pull free and she steps to the King's side.

"Meera" whispers Bran softly, looking at me with love in his eyes.

"Bran" I reply, looking at him with what I hope is a matching smile.

"Well, I can see we're not needed" mutters Jon. "We'll be over there" he says pointing across the clearing.

"Okay" says Bran offhandedly as he reaches out and takes my hand. The small group of witnesses move off out of earshot as Bran pulls me close. "Shall we?" asks Bran gesturing towards the weirwood heart tree. I nod eagerly and we slowly edge our way to the weirwood. I look up at the old sacred tree as we step underneath its nearly bare branches. I smile as I look at the spot where Bran and I have sat for countless hours while he is off greenseeing. We both step up to the base of the weirwood and turn to face each other.

"I love you" he whispers softly.

"Love you too my Prince" I say.

"After today... call me husband" he says kindly with a grin.

"I'd like that" I say leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. I lean back and we clasp our hands together and slowly kneel down before the weirwood. The coldness of the ground sends a shiver up my spine as we kneel before each other.

"Still want to be my wife?" asks Bran quietly.

"Yes" I say simply. "Will you be my husband?" I ask.

"Yes..." he says, "...I am yours, and you are mine".

"And I am yours, and you are mine" I repeat.

"We swear it by earth and water. We swear it by bronze and iron. We swear it by ice and fire" we both recite staring into each other's eyes. A wide smile breaks across my face as Bran gently squeezes my hands.

"By the old Gods, I claim you as my wife" he says in a hushed whisper.

"By the old Gods, I claim you as my husband" I whisper back, looking at the man, now my husband. I lean in to meet Bran as he moves in for a kiss. Our lips meet and we fall into the familiar languid rhythm as we kiss slowly beneath the weirwood; now as husband and wife. Around us, snow continues to fall slowly but we pay it no mind as we continue kissing.

It's happened, I think joyously. We're married. Bran Stark is my husband, I am his wife. Against everything I ever expected from life, I am now a wife. We slowly break our kiss and part, if only slightly. I stare into my husband's eyes and I let out a relived giggle.

"We're married" I state, almost sounding surprised.

"We're married" he agrees nodding.

"I love you husband" I say feeling breathless.

"Love you too wife" he says. We both chuckle lightly at our foolish need to confirm our marriage.

"Shall we join the others?" I ask, nodding at the small group gathered across the clearing.

"I suppose" he says, and together we stand up. We turn and walk hand in hand towards the group of onlookers. Amongst them I see my good-sister Sansa beaming at me. My eyes move around, looking at the faces of King Jon, and Ser Davos. Next to them stand a few Bannermen I haven't met as well as Tormund the Wildling. As we step closer everyone gathers around, offering congratulations or other kind words.

"Congratulations you two" says Sansa happily.

"Yeah, sorry I made you delay" adds Jon with a slightly sheepish expression. Slowly people finish their well wishing and they leave to make their way indoors, away from the cold. Bran and I make to join them. "Can I borrow Bran a moment?" Jon asks me, glancing sideways at his sister.

"Of course" I say, despite feeling an aversion to being parted from my husband on our wedding day.

"What is it?" asks Bran as Sansa leads me away from the talking brothers.

"I got you a wedding gift" I hear Jon say cryptically.

"So, how's it being a married woman?" asks Sansa, sounding slightly distracted.

"Not so different" I say with a smile as I glance over my shoulder and see Bran and the King still in discussion. "You know what they're talking about, don't you?" I ask my good-sister.

"Yes. And so will the whole castle by nightfall" she answers, giving away nothing.

"Need I be worried?" I ask.

"No" she answers with a kind smile. A still silence surrounds me and my good-sister as we walk slowly across the castle training yard. "Now, I've had some food and drink sent up to your room, and the fire has been made" she says, breaking the silence.

"Oh" I say, blushing. I suppose it's no secret what Bran and I will be doing for the rest of the day. I feel a blush roll up my neck and fill my cheeks as my good-sister gives me a teasing smile.

"I expect we'll not see either of you until tomorrow?" teases Sansa further. I feel my blush deepen as Sansa eyes me with humour. I almost voice a retort until I hear Bran call out from somewhere behind. I turn on the spot and see my husband walking briskly over to me, perhaps to rescue me from his teasing sister.

"Running off already?" asks Bran.

"Never husband" I say easily as I step into Bran's offered embrace. As we hug The King and Lady Sansa offer some parting words as they make to leave me and Bran. If I didn't know better I'd say Jon looks a little uncomfortable. "What did Jon want?" I ask as Jon and Sansa pass out of earshot.

"I'll tell you in our chambers" says Bran quietly.

"Okay" I say, nodding against his chest. Slowly Bran's arms pull free and we begin walking towards the castle doors, hand in hand. As we enter the castle, I see smiles on people's faces as they offer polite congratulations. Thankfully nobody attempts to make conversation or detain us as we pass through the great hall and head up the stairs to our bedroom.

We get to our bedroom door and Bran swings it open and I step across the threshold to be greeted by the sight of the platter of food and drink sitting on the table that Sansa had mentioned. I pull my cloak free and swing it over to hook by the wardrobe as Bran goes about barring the door. I walk over to the table and lift the lid on the pot of food and see it filled almost to the brim with a hearty stew.

"I think people know we aren't expected to leave our room today" says Bran rolling his eyes as he drapes his cloak over the armchair.

"Your sister said as much" I say, feeling slightly embarrassed at the castles knowledge of our sex life.

"Let them joke" says Bran softly as he wraps his arms around my middle. I replace the lid on the pot of stew as Bran's hands rest possessively over my belly. His head leans forward to rest against my shoulder as he lets out a deep sigh.

"What's wrong husband?" I ask, feeling a slight jolt of happiness each time I call him husband.

"Jon. He's... done something" says Bran.

"What is it?" I ask, turning in Bran's arms and looking him in the eye.

"This" says Bran, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a scroll of paper. I take the offered scroll and unravel it and begin to read.

_I, Jon Snow, King in the North declare Bran of the House Stark the true and rightful Lord of Winterfell. There is only one Lord of Winterfell, and his name is Stark._

"Bran..." I say in shock, "...has he? Does this mean?" I say unable to complete a coherent sentence.

"He sent copies out to all the Northern Lords this morning, and he's planning to leave Winterfell soon to see the other Northern Houses" says Bran with a dark expression.

"So what's wrong?" I ask, looking kindly at my husband.

"How can he make me Lord of Winterfell? I'm the one who lost it to the Ironborn in the first place" says Bran bitterly. Bran's arms slide from around my body, looking dejected.

"That wasn't your fault Bran" I say honestly.

"What kind of Lord gets himself betrayed?" asks Bran rhetorically, his anger showing.

"Honesty my love? A Stark" I answer simply. As bitter a thought as it is, it seems Starks have a habit of being betrayed by those supposedly loyal; a habit which will be broken if I have anything to do with it.

"But..." begins Bran, "...I'm just a third son, I don't know how to be Lord of Winterfell. What if I let everyone down?" he says looking up at me. And for the first time I realise the extent of my husband's insecurity.

"Bran..." I say, "...you won't let anyone down".

"How do you know?" asks Bran, looking at me with soft eyes.

"My father told me so" I say, with a loving smile. Bran gives me a confused look as I begin to explain. "He used to tell stories about your father. He'd tell tales of how heroic and honourable he was. But once, when he snuck more ale without mother noticing, he told us how he was behind closed doors. He told me Ned Stark was always uneasy, and never felt equal to the task of being Lord of Winterfell".

"Meera" whispers Bran.

"And that's how I know you'll be a great Lord of Winterfell, because you're the same" I tell him, my eyes watering slightly. "Because you're kind and just... and... and—" I continue before being silenced by Bran's lips as he presses a hot kiss against my mouth. Bran's hand reaches across and cups the back of my head as he leans into the kiss, his lips moving with intensity that shakes me to the core. He kisses me hard and fast, giving me little time to respond. Almost as fast as it began, Bran breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine.

"What would I do without you?" he breathes against my cheek. I pull back slightly and look him in the eye.

"I'd rather not think on it" I say.

"Me either" he says with a grin, the first I've seen since he showed me the scroll. "But when Jon does leaves, I'll need your help" he says.

"I'll always be here for you Bran" I say leaning in and resting my forehead against his chin. "Always".

"Love you" he mumbles.

"You too" I whisper, my hands sliding around his middle. "Now, it's our wedding day, lets enjoy ourselves"

"Mhm" he hums in approval, his hands running up my sides. "I've got you all to myself now Meera Stark" he mutters softly. Meera Stark? Those two words stop my heart as I pull back to look my husband in the eye. I hadn't even considered my name, everything between Bran and me has passed so naturally that I hadn't considered my name changing. My name is Meera Stark.

The sudden realisation that I am now Meera Stark causes a dam to burst within me. I swoop in and press a kiss to my husband's soft lips. I bring my hands up and run them through Bran's hair as we deepen our kiss. Our lips work roughly against each other, filling the room with sloppy noises. Bran's lips eagerly respond to mine as he nips and teases my lower lip. I break the kiss and nuzzle my nose against Bran's cheek, and take in a deep inhale of his soothing scent.

"Want you" I groan. A noise leaves Bran's throat indicating his approval as his hands come up and begin eagerly tugging with the laces and straps to my new tunic. I raise my hands up, letting Bran pull my tunic and undershirt up over my head. A disapproving noise leaves my mouth as Bran drops my clothes carelessly to the ground, but any care for my new tunic is forced from my mind as Bran's mouth leans in and peppers kisses over my breasts. "Mmm Bran" I gasp as his tongue twirls over my pink nipple.

"You have the most perfect tits" mumbles Bran, his words muffled against my breast. As Bran suckles my nipple with his warm mouth, his hands work their way down and pulls gently at the laces to my breeches.

"Gods" I whisper as Bran's lips begin working their way down as he slowly drops to his knees in front of me. A gasp leaves me as he plants wet kisses across my belly and down to my waistband. Tingles ripple through me as Bran nips lightly at my hipbone. He eases my breeches and smallclothes down past my hips and drags them down my thighs, exposing my wet folds to the air. A shiver rolls up my spine as Bran nuzzles his nose through the small patch of curls between my thighs.

I widen my thighs as best I can while still standing as I feel Bran's tongue peek out and give a long lick upwards over my slickening womanhood. I open my mouth to give Bran encouragement, but his thumb brushes over my nub of pleasure, silencing me as a low whine leaves my throat. My husband's tongue feels like fire as it presses between my folds and teases at my sensitized inner walls. I moan as pleasure rocks through me. But this isn't what I want, or what I need. My hands reach down for Bran's shoulders and I push his face away from my wet nether-lips.

"No" I say firmly. "Want you inside me" I tell him as he his confused expression turns to a lusty grin. I step out of my breeches and move around Bran's kneeling form towards the bed. Bran's lusty gaze follows me as I sit down on the bed and lean back against my elbows. My thighs part invitingly as Bran stares at me with an intensity that makes my womanhood slicken further. "Come. Take me my love" I tell him as he stands up.

"You are so perfect" he mutters distractedly as he walks over to me, pulling off his tunic and throwing it aside. I drag my eyes down his pale body hungrily as he pulls the laces on his breeches free; letting them drop to the floor, before kicking them aside. I spread my thighs a little wider as Bran steps between my legs.

"Fuck me" I tell him, totally unashamed as I stare eagerly at my husband's throbbing cock. Bran's hands reach out and grab a hold of my outstretched ankles. His hands slide up under my legs, letting my knees rest over his forearms as his fingers find purchase under my thighs. I look up into Bran's eyes and see the same look mix of love and lust that's always there when we're intimate.

"Guide me" says Bran, sounding breathless. I reach out and wrap my fingers around Bran's cock. I stroke my fingers up and down his cock, dragging a groan from his lips before I ease his cock down and to my sopping folds. The contact of his cock with my womanhood sends tingles of anticipation rocking through me as I take in an excited breath. Bran eases his hips forward slowly as I hold his cockhead in line with my eager cunt.

"Do it" I practically demand. Bran gives me a knowing grin as he stares down at me. All in one movement Bran snaps his hips forward, impaling me on his cock. We both groan in contentment as he stills and we just enjoy the moment of being joined. "You're all mine now" I say breathlessly, staring up at Bran's warm brown eyes.

"All yours" he agrees with a smile before rocking his hips back and dragging his cock from me slowly. "And you're all mine" he adds before slamming his hips forward and thrusting his cock back into my core, dragging a wanton moan from me.

"I'm all yours" I repeat back, as he slowly begins thrusting his cock into me in a faster rhythm. I mewl and moan weakly as he begins to build a hurried pace. My eyes lock onto his face, watching it contort in concentration as he fucks his cock into me over and over. He adjusts his grip under my thighs and his fingers press harder into me. Bran's pace quickens even further, shaking my whole body as his cock sinks back into me. I smirk widely as Bran's eyes fixate on my breasts as they bounce and sway in time with his rabid thrusts. I lean back further on my elbows and push out my chest, affording my husband a better view as my tits shake.

My voice fills the room, as I moan and gasp in delight with each thrust of his cock deep into my channel. Slowly the burning bubble of bliss begins to build behind my navel as I look up into Bran's eyes. I watch the small beads of sweat slowly gather on his forehead as he begins to mercilessly pound his cock into my welcoming cunt. The echoing sound of my pleasure wracked voice forms a chorus as it bounces off the stone walls.

Bran's fingers grip tighter into the flesh of my thighs, and I wonder idly if I will have hand shaped bruises in the morning. For some reason I think I will be disappointed if I don't have any marks come sunup. As his cock continues driving into me I lean my head back and enjoy the blissful sensation of being fucked by the man I can now call husband. Bran lifts my hips off the bed slightly as he continues pounding himself into me, grunting in pleasure as he does. Deep within I feel Bran's cockhead drag against a sensitive point inside and I cry out as my eyes spring open and I look upon the man fucking me towards madness.

I love this feeling, this closeness and the intensity we can create between ourselves when we fuck or when we make love. I love the way he can look at me with pure lust, but leaving me feeling nothing less than loved. My head swims with a hazy pleasure as his cock strikes deep at my core. I feel my climax fast approaching, but I try to maintain my control. This is our wedding day, and I want this to last. I want to watch Bran lose himself in the pleasure of my cunt before he drives me over my edge.

"Gods. Fuck. Meera" shouts Bran between loud groans.

"Please I'm alm..." I try to say, before a moan escapes me,"...almost there!" I finish, looking intently at my husband.

"Me too" says Bran, his eyes afire with lust as he continues to slam his cock into me. The bubble of pleasure burns within my core, begging for release. I can't hold on. The sweat slicking my body makes me feel like I'm on fire. My toes curl beyond the point of pain as I allow myself to give in. I throw my head back and let out a long wail of pleasure as I feel the bubble finally burst, leaving me adrift in a sea of bliss.

Bran continues to hammer his cock into me, straining to reach his end soon. Distantly I wonder if the sounds escaping my mouth are being heard across the castle, but that thought is soon pushed aside as Bran shouts out in completion and his cock spears me deep. Deep inside my core I feel Bran filling me with his seed, and I smile weakly up at Bran as he collapses on top of me. My husband's cock throbs and twitches as it plants it seed deep into my body. I let my upper body fall back to the mattress and I wrap my arms around Bran as we work our way though our shared release.

I hear Bran panting loudly next to my ear as I whisper sweet words to him. I tell him how much I love him and how good he made me feel. I wrap my thighs around Bran's hips and cross my ankles over behind his back, keeping him locked in place as we shudder and twitch through our pleasure. Eventually the last of my climax begins to ebb away and I feel my head clear.

This has got to be the roughest we have ever fucked. I wonder if perhaps I am some sort of perverse woman who enjoys that kind of sex. Is it wrong to enjoy your love making, whether it be tender and sweet or hard and fierce? Bran lets out a contented rumble as I lay here thinking. I suppose if we're both happy, I don't care much if I am a perverse woman.

Bran's lips find my neck and he presses a soft kiss to my sensitive flesh. I notice that Bran has somewhat regained his breath as he tries to get his arms under him to roll off me.

"No" I whisper, holding him in place. "I want you right here" I say. Bran's cock slowly softens within my channel, leaving me full of seed.

"We're getting good at this" mutters Bran.

"Mhm" I hum in agreement as I stroke my fingers up and down my husband's sweat slicked back.

"You're so pretty when you come" says Bran quietly.

"You've told me that before" I say, grinning.

"And yet it's still true" he replies, kissing my shoulder softly. Slowly the weight of my sated husband begins to make it hard for me to draw breath and I unwind my legs from around him. Bran takes the hint and he rolls carefully off me and shuffles himself up the bed to lay his head against the pillows. I roll onto my hands and knees and crawl up the bed and curl myself against his side, resting my head against his shoulder. Between my legs I feel the slickness of Bran's seed mingled with my wetness and I press my thighs tighter together. Somewhere deep within I feel the instinct to keep as much of Bran's seed in my body as possible.

"It's not even noon and we've already worn each other out" I say, not feeling even slightly sorry. Bran's arm curls over my shoulder and I snuggle closer against his side.

"When I can feel my legs working again, we should eat" says Bran. "Need to keep our strength up" he adds with a grin.

"Yeah" I agree as my mind fills with ideas of what else we're going to do today. A comfortable silence fills the room, only punctuated by the crackling fire and the distance sounds of people moving about the castle. My body starts to relax and I snuggle further into Bran's side as we lay side by side in silence.

"I love you Meera Stark" says Bran softly, and my heart fills with joy as he says my name.

"I like hearing Stark after my name" I say, grinning at Bran.

"Me too, Meera Stark" he says, repeating my name for effect.

"Call me Meera Stark again... and I'll have you again right now" I whisper challengingly.

"Then have me... Meera Star—" he begins to say before I cut him off with a forceful kiss as I throw my leg over his hips and straddle his lap. He asked for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: A long chapter, hope it all came together okay.  
> \- Anyway I'm having trouble trying to figure out which direction to take this story from here. Currently I have two plans:  
> (A) is to simply cut to an epilogue, and not try to tackle the mammoth task of GoT's plot  
> or  
> (B) I add in some chapters of Bran/Meera dealing with possible vague future GoT events.
> 
> So let me know which way you'd rather this story goes. Seriously, let me know, because I'm this close to flipping a coin.


	14. Chapter 14

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 14: Into the Future**

A comfortable silence fills our bedroom as Bran and I finally take our meal. Between mouthfuls of stew I see my husband smirking at me as he sits there with his robe pulled loosely over his chest. I pull my own robe tighter around my breasts as I feel the echoing throb between my legs, reminding me of how I pushed my new husband down and rode him into the mattress. I find myself smirking as our eyes meet across the table.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to hear my name again without thinking about that" I say grinning as I ladle myself another bowl of stew. Bran just chuckles as he finishes off his bowl of stew and reaches for the pitcher of water.

"I really like the way your hair bounces when you ride me" says Bran without shame as he fills a cup of water and passes it across to me before filling his own.

"Not all you like watching bounce" I say with a raised eyebrow. A blush rolls up Bran's neck and fills his cheeks as he takes a sip of water. A giggle leaves me as Bran refuses to make eye contact at my comment. I love that I can make him blush. I love that he can tell me how perfect my tits are in one moment, and then get shy when I joke about them in the next.

I take a sip of water and then dig into my second bowl of stew ravenously. Making love to your new husband really builds an appetite. In fact I've been hungrier ever since we started having sex. Maybe my body is just not used to the exercise and exertion that being young and in love requires.

"When does Jon plan on leaving" I ask, deciding to relieve Bran of his embarrassment.

"I don't know. Soon, he said" answers Bran. "Said he needed to get the Northern Houses back to how they ought to be".

"What do you mean? They all declared him King didn't they?" I ask.

"Yeah, but there's no order or unity among them" he explains.

"So what does Jon want you to do as Lord of Winterfell while he's gone?" I ask between mouthfuls of stew.

"Needs me to get as many Bannermen prepared for war as soon as possible" he answers, looking distant.

"Okay" I say smiling at my husband. "Don't look so grim, you won't be alone. I'll be here to help" I tell him.

"I know" he says forcing a smile. "And Tormund will be here too. Jon said he asked to stay" he adds.

"The Wildling? Why?" I ask looking confused.

"No idea" says Bran. "He knows I'm a warg. Might have something to do with that?" he suggests.

"Maybe" I hedge, taking another spoonful of stew as I ponder the whys of the tall Wilding. "Let's not worry about it today love". Bran nods in acceptance, before leaning back in his chair. I feel his foot nudge against my leg under the table as I spoon the last of my stew into my mouth. Bran smiles innocently at me as he runs the inside of his foot up and down my leg as he watches me.

"Love you" he whispers.

"Love you too husband" I say smiling, still enjoying calling him husband. A comfortable silence fills the room as Bran and I hold our gaze, his foot still stroking my leg; not in a sexual way, more in a comforting way. I wonder if all married couples are like this. I remember when I was young, father would always run his hand along mother's shoulders as he would pass her during meals. Maybe I'm over-thinking and Bran's just being affectionate.

I push away my now empty bowl and lean back into my chair and let out a satisfied sigh, running my hand over belly, relishing the feeling of being sated, first in bed and then by the food.

"My very hungry wife" jokes Bran with a soft chuckle.

"Shut up. Making love makes me hungry" I say defensively.

"You had three bowls" he says with a wry grin. I look down in surprise as I try to recall how many bowls I ate. I think he's right, I think I ate three bowls while he only ate one.

"Worried I'll become fat?" I ask teasingly as I rub my belly for effect.

"Bet you'd be beautiful with a swollen belly" he says with loving smile.

"Always flattering me..." I say trailing off as I realize what he meant. "Oh. You mean if I get with child" I say feeling slightly foolish.

"Mhm" he hums with a smug look.

"Still a flatterer" I say rolling my eyes as I rub my belly without thought. A sudden thought strikes me and I undo my robe and let it part, exposing my naked belly. I press my palm over my belly and hips. I quickly lean back in the chair and let more firelight fall on my pale skin as I look myself over.

"What are you doing?" asks Bran, sounding amused.

"Bran" I say uncertainly, "does my belly look bigger to you?" I ask.

"Don't tease" says Bran, shaking his head.

"I'm not teasing, have a look" I say looking up at him. In the blink of an eye the amused expression on Bran's face becomes serious and he jumps out of his chair and rounds the table to kneel at my feet. His hands reach out and he runs them over my hips and inwards over my belly. "Bigger, right?" I ask.

"Meera" he breathes. "Are you... with child?"

"I don't know" I answer, my hands running over the small bump on my belly as my mind swells with questions.

"Aren't there supposed to be signs?" he asks looking up at me with an eagerness that that fills me with joy.

"I think you're supposed to get sick and feverish" I explain uncertainly, recalling my mother's lessons. "But I have been drinking and eating a lot lately".

"Gods Meera, I just fucked you hard, what if I've made our poor baby lame" he says sounding horrified.

"Bran" I mutter, giggling at his foolishness. "It's fine, women with babies can fuck all they want".

"How do you know?" he asks accusingly.

"My mother told me so" I say unflinchingly as his hands continue to roam over my belly in awe.

"So I haven't hurt it?" he asks.

"No Bran, I don't even know if I'm with child yet" I say smirking at his over-eagerness. My mind fills with a weird combination of joy and fear. Fearful joy, or maybe happy dread. I know I shouldn't get hopeful, but somewhere deep inside I feel certain that I'm carrying Bran's child. How can one small bump bring out this potent mixture of happiness, and worry that's biting at me?

"How long does it take to be born?" asks Bran, his face lit up with a smile.

"Nine or ten months, if it's healthy" I say, taking Bran's hands in my own.

"It will be" he says with a prideful certainty that sends a shiver up my spine.

"Gods I love you" I say pulling him up for a kiss. Our lips press together as Bran kneels between my legs, and we kiss. Bran presses slow wet kisses over my mouth, his eyes sparkling with happiness as his hands hold onto my own. I poke my tongue out and Bran parts his lips allowing entrance into his mouth. My hair pools around my face as I lean down and press my tongue into Bran's mouth as he meets it with his own, to tease and suckle as our combined drool pools over our lips and down our chins. The sound of our lips popping and smacking fills the room as we kiss fiercely in combined happiness.

"I can't believe you're with child" he says breathlessly as he breaks the kiss and pulls back slightly.

"I still have to check with the maester in the morning" I say leaning in and stealing another kiss. "Gods what if I've just put on weight and we're being foolish" I mumble, pressing our foreheads together.

"Don't worry" says Bran calmly, "You're with child. I know it".

"Okay" I accept weakly as Bran's thumbs start rubbing soothing circles over my palms. Wordlessly I stand from the chair and Bran stands with me. Together we walk over to the bed, our hands parting as we slide under the blankets, my body curling around Bran's side on instinct. I rest my head over his shoulder and we simply lay in bed, barely clothed, just thinking of our child.

My mind fills with ideas of a little Stark boy, running circles around me as I stand in the Godswood. Bran's arm reaches over and his hand presses possessively over my belly. Maybe we'll have a girl. Images run through my head of a small girl, with my curly brown hair sitting in her father's lap looking up at me. She has her father's eyes, I think happily as I let out a contented sigh. I often find myself fantasizing about children lately, but for some reason, finding out I've got a swollen belly makes the ideas seem so real they are almost tangible.

"Do you want a son or a daughter?" I ask Bran, glancing up at his peaceful face.

"Yes" he answers simply as I give him a bemused look.

"No really" I say, lightly slapping his belly at his over-clever answer.

"I don't care... son or daughter. It will be ours" he says with an almost reverent tone. I look my husband in the eye and see the earnest truth of his words. A smile splits my face as I lean in and press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I love you Bran" I whisper.

"Love you too" he says, nuzzling his cheek against my hair.

"I hope I'll be a good mother" I say softly, wanting Bran to reassure me.

"You will" he says. "You're too kind and loving not to be". I can always count on Bran to dispel my fears, I think as I smile against his neck. I hoist my thigh up higher over Bran's body, brushing against his cock as I do.

"I never thought I'd be a mother" I admit softly. "Never thought I'd see south of the Wall again either".

"I never thought you could love me" Bran mutters against my ear. "Knew you could never love a cripple. Thank the Gods for my legs returning".

"Bran..." I say, silencing him with a finger pressed over his lips. "...Don't say things like that, I fell in love with that cripple". I lean in and press a soft kiss over my husband's lips.

"Really?" asks Bran, looking disbelieving.

"Really" I confirm. A bitterness wells within me that I've never made this clear to him before. "I loved you long before we even made it to that cave". A look of surprise crosses Bran's face as he looks at me. "When I think back... I've loved you ever since we got captured by those Night's Watch traitors, and you tried to protect me. I just didn't notice" I tell him. Bran opens and closes his mouth a few times as he looks at me with an intense expression.

"You loved me back then?" he asks, sounding meek and vulnerable in a way that melts me heart.

"Yes" I say, running my hand down his neck and down to his chest. I can feel his heart beating rapidly against my fingers as I watch him breathe in slowly. Without words, Bran swoops in and presses his lips against mine in a deep kiss. His hands tangle through my hair as he leans me back into the mattress. My arms wrap around the back of his head as he kisses his way down my chin and across my jaw. I let out a sigh of contentment as the father of my child; my husband kisses his way down my neck. I lean back and gasp as Bran drops hot kisses over my breasts as he goes about showing me how much my admission means to him. I think I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving to Bran how worthy he is of love, legs or no legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Last chapter before I put up the epilogue. I never put an Authors Note at the end, so I'll put it here.  
> \- I think this story works as it is, its meant to be light hearted, and if I try to work through GoT's plot that wouldn't fit well. I also wanted to get this story done before Christmas. Anyway thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> One thing I'd like readers to know, but could never put in the actual story: Bran's spine wasn't reset by the fall, it was reset when Meera cradled him in her arms afterwards.
> 
> Edit (31-12-16): Also looking for someone who wants to try the Bran POV for this story as I can't seem to get into the characters head. Anyone who thinks they are up for it leave a comment, I'd love to see a Bran side of this story.


	15. Chapter 15

**For Lost Time**

 

**Chapter 15: Epilogue**

I cast my eyes upwards and look through the red-gold leaves of the weirwood tree as I sit next to my husband. The spring sunlight bursts through the leaves and over me, warming me all the way through. I glance over at Bran; his eyes are still closed, he's probably greenseeing. He won't be long to wake. I run my hand over his thigh comfortingly.

A soft laughing noise distracts me from my pleasant relaxation and my eyes snap to the clearing around the heart tree. I see my two sons, swinging around small wooden branches, pretending they are swords as they play at being Knights. A smile pulls at my face as I watch my twin sons; Howland and Eddard run and play carefree through the clearing around me.

I always found it odd that Ned grew short and stout, more like a crannog, where as Howland got tall and lean, in the Stark bearing. Bran tells me that somewhere their grandfathers are laughing at the mismatch. Even only at seven namedays, the twin brothers are as rambunctious as ever, constantly trying to find ways to play at being grown men. Bran thinks they want to be great swordsmen like their Uncle.

Ned swings his branch low and swats Howland on his backside as the brothers' circle around each other swinging wildly. Immediately my heart fills with worry. What if they take out their eyes?

"Boys" I call out sternly as I stand up walk over to my sons. "Please be more careful" I say just as Howland gets revenge on his brother by tripping him up.

"Yes mother" they both say in chorus, rolling their eyes. I cast my eyes over their muddy clothes and wonder what I ought to do with my boys. I watch as they both trade a secret smirk and then run off to ignore what they just promised not to do, just like every other time they promise. I turn back to the heart tree and walk over to Bran and sit myself down at his side once more. At least Bran will always do as I say, I think with a wry grin.

"I think it's getting time to have the boys fitted for training swords" says Bran, startling me.

"Gods Bran, you scared me" I say crossly, slapping his belly with the back of my hand.

"Sorry love" he mutters, pulling me into his arms. I don't want to let him off easy, but his warm hands pressing into my back makes me think otherwise.

"You're not sorry" I say.

"No" he admits as I turn in his arms and we watch out sons carry on playing.

"So, you think it's time for them to get their practice swords?" I ask, feeling a nervous shiver run up my arm.

"I think they will keep finding branches, no matter what we do" Bran answers, smiling against my cheek.

"If we send them to the training yard, Tormund will eat them alive" I say, trying to picture the huge Wilding teaching my sons.

"At least they'll be wearing padding" says Bran, trying to sound calm.

"Maybe... we should just let them help clearing up the training yard first" I suggest. "Let them get used to it before they get training swords".

"You know they are sneaking off to watch the men fight and practice almost every day right?" asks Bran looking at me with a teasing grin.

"Really?" I say, feigning surprise. "I had no clue. I only have to go fetch them every other day".

"Okay, point taken" says Bran pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. "Boys! Come over here" he calls out. I watch as matching grins spread across my sons faces as they run over towards us. A feel a tight knot in my chest as I watch my boys run over; I knew they'd eventually have to go off and train so they can grow up to be proper Lords. But it still stings slightly that it's already time to let them into the training yard with the men. Perhaps they are too young, but Bran's right. They'll keep sneaking in, or swinging branches at each other. Or chairs.

"Father" say Ned happily as he bounds over and throws himself into his father's arms. Behind him Howland sits down neatly and leans into Bran's side.

"You're awake father" says Howland happily. I run my fingers through Ned's soft brown hair as he looks up at his father.

"Didn't get bored did you boys?" asks Bran grinning knowingly at his sons.

"No" "Of course not" replies the boys.

"Good... because your mother and I have something we want to talk to you about" says Bran, looking at me. I give him an accepting nod as the boys listen in eagerly. "So what do you two think about going to the training yard every other day and helping out?" asks Bran kindly to his sons.

"You mean we get to learn to use real swords?" asks Ned in awe.

"And armor and shields and stuff?" adds Howland.

"No. I mean, you get to help out Tormund with what needs doing. But you'll get to watch the men fight, and learn that way" says Bran, a fatherly grin crossing his face.

"So we can watch?" asks Howland, looking at his brother.

"Yes, and if Tormund tells you to muck out the stables, or polish some armour?" asks Bran, trailing off.

"We do it" says Ned confidently as a wild smile blooms across his face.

"And..." I say smiling down at my sweet sons. "...if you're good, and do as your told, you might get your own training swords".

"Really?" asks Ned, launching up to hug me, as I watch Howland kick his legs in happiness.

"Okay, okay... calm down" says Bran, smiling happily. "Now, we'll discuss this more later. Now isn't time for your lessons?"

"Father" groans Howland, "it's not even noon yet".

"You both have to clean up first" I say sternly. "Now get a move on, or you'll keep maester Tarly waiting".

"Yes mother" the boys say in chorus as they once more roll their eyes. I watch as my sons detangle themselves from me and Bran's arms and they trudge their way across the clearing.

"And leave the branches where you found them" calls out Bran, shaking his head. My eyes follow the boys as they pass between some trees and out of sight.

"Remember when they were small and quiet" I say jokingly, resting my forehead against Bran's cheek.

"Which one of us was it that couldn't wait for them to walk?" asks Bran, with a smirk.

"That was you" I say accusingly as Bran's arms snake around me and hold me tightly.

"If you say so love" accepts Bran. "C'mon, we best make sure they actually make it to their lesson".

"A parent's work is never done" I mutter wearily as we stand up and slowly stroll across the brightly lit Godwood, hand in hand. Even if I like to complain, I would never trade the aches and pains I get from motherhood. Sometimes I wonder if my mother got weary chasing after me. Maybe it's a cycle, and one day Ned and Howland will have to chase after their own little children.

I glance over at Bran and watch a content smile play across his face. Despite the pressures of being Lord of Winterfell, he still seems to love chasing after or playing with his over-energetic sons. A thought occurs to me, and I realize that I am between my moons-blood today. Perhaps it's time for Bran and me to have another child, I think as a warm smile crosses my face. The North is at peace once more, so perhaps it's time. I grip a hold of Bran's hand tighter as we pass through the archway and head towards the castle.

After losing so much during his youth, Bran seems stronger each and every day. Not just as a man, but as a Lord and as a father. Some part of me feels a joyful pride in knowing I was able to be a part of what made him stronger. When I think about it, being a mother has made me stronger too; if perhaps a touch overprotective. Bran curls his arm over my shoulder and pulls me close as we go off in search of our sons.

Perhaps all this; us, our marriage and our sons was just what me and Bran needed after such dark days. Maybe this was us making up for lost time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm not GRRM or HBO, I have the tax returns to prove it.


End file.
